Left 4 Dead Dark Haven
by Titen-Sxull
Summary: Dark Haven follows a group of Survivors who met up with the original four on a boat near Riverside but have since set out on their own. Together they look for a safe-zone while dealing with the continuously mutating infected.
1. Chapter 1: Dead End

Darkness was sweeping over the city but tonight the familiar glow of street lights and skyscrapers was replaced by the incandescence of burning buildings against clouds of billowing smoke. The four survivors, skin covered with sweat despite the cool November air, made their way at breakneck speed racing against the setting sun. They ignored the horrid scenery around them, the stench of scorched flesh from those that had been trapped in their homes, the sight of bodies strewn across the street, and pressed on. Malana was once again taking point, her sharp eyes scanning each direction before giving the go ahead to the others. They hadn't seen many infected since entering the city and those they had seen hadn't been a threat to them. Still Malana knew better than to discard her caution in favor of haste. She brought the group to a halt for a moment surveying the school yard for signs of the Infected. Her heart skipped a beat as they walked across the playground now turned graveyard for hundreds of children that still lay rotting under the setting sun.

"Were they infected?" Kael, the youngest of the group at barely sixteen, asked.

"Not likely," Malana admitted softly afraid their voices might attract any nearby zombies.

"These are bullet wounds," Allan Wright pointed out.

"Look Doc," Brutus said, "This is heartbreaking enough without you stopping to do your Doctor thing. They're already fucking dead."

"Keep your voices down," Malana reminded as they neared the door to the school.

Brutus and Allan continued their exchange nonverbally casting angry stares as they made their way into the school. The two had been at odds since they'd met. Brutus was impatient by nature though he was hardly without a heart he often let his temper get the best of him. Allan felt a bit of his soul leave him with every dead child he passed. This school stood as a tomb in an already dead city, a testament not to the infection, he realized, but to the sins of CEDA. The Civil Emergency and Defense Agency, CEDA had failed to handle the infection and by the time they realized it was too late their way of handling things quickly became killing. Now they killed with impunity in collusion with the military, wiping out any who were infected or even just those that are not entirely immune.

Malana gestured for the group to stay put and signaled the confirmed presence of an infected. She slipped around the corner with her silenced M9 pistol drawn and ready. She made sure to take off her shoes to ensure silent footfalls as she got within range rushing toward her prey. The first two infected fell dead with a thud against the tile but Malana quickly realized her mistake in rushing out into the hall as a shout from behind her forced her to spin. She lifted her weapon and placed a round between the eyes of the sprinting zombie. With a racing heart and a silent reminder to herself not to go rushing out alone she gestured for the others to follow.

The group secured the rest of the school without incident and boarded up one of the rooms in the basement as a safe room. The entire thing had seemed all too easy. Despite the tenseness of their journey across the city they had encountered almost no resistance. It was that lack of action that had kept their nerves on high alert ever since they'd stepped off the boat three days ago. Another factor in the weirdness was their discovery of Kael O'Connor. The young man had been in his home still when they found him but according to him he'd only encountered one infected the entire time. It'd been two weeks since the infection and yet here in Harrisburg they seemed all but absent.

"Do you think CEDA wiped out all the infected here?" Brutus asked, "I mean we haven't seen shit in three days and yet before we got on the boat there were tons of infected. Remember when we stopped to get those Survivors in Riverside? There were hundreds of them."

"I don't think its CEDA," Allan said, "or the military. Something else drew them out of the city."

"Evacuation," Malana postulated, "Everyone left the city so the zombies chased them into the suburbs."

"Well whatever the reason this whole excursion was a waste of fucking time," Brutus said crossing his arms.

"We saved Kael didn't we?" Malana said defending her decision.

"There ain't no zombies to save him from," Brutus sneered.

"We saved him from going mad from loneliness then," Allan chimed in in defense.

"Whatever," Brutus said throwing his hands as if done with the entire line of debate, "I'm going to sleep. Wake me whenever we can leave this shit hole city."

"We should all get some rest," Malana suggested, "We'll head along Route 15 tomorrow that will take us out into the suburbs to look for Survivors and maybe find a car that works."

Malana lay down on what used to be a teachers desk and tried to get some sleep. It never came easy, not since the infection started to spread. She'd been up North in Scranton at the time working as an instructor for woman's self-defense. It'd started normally enough, a flu hit and started to spread. They called it the Green Flu. Soon enough most of the people in her classes had come down with it, within three days she didn't even have to come in for work. Then the reports came in talk of attacks by those who had caught the flu. It'd all gone to hell after that, legions of infected stormed buildings tearing people limb from limb. She offered to help Brutus, one of the men who taught Karate in the same building, get out of the city in her truck.

Now it had been eighteen days of Hell, eighteen days of dodging the infected and trying to find a safe place to stay. It never got any easier. There was no way to get used to the stench of corpses, the sight of blood or having to pull the trigger and end a life, even if it was the life of a zombie. Each zombie was different; each one was once a person. Many were caught in a freeze frame of their mortal life. During the first week Malana had seen infected individuals with shaving cream and half a beard still attached to their sickly green faces. Now they were finding children and ordinary citizens, not infected but clearly riddled with holes. It was bad enough many had been left for dead but now some were being outright killed. As the hours moved past Malana felt her mind fading until fatigue finally erased the nightmarish images in her head and sleep took her.

Malana's eyes shot open and her hand immediately went for her pistol. She cast her eyes every which way and blocked the snoring of the other sleeping survivors from her mind as she searched for the origin of the disturbance she'd sensed. It had been only a faint sound, the pitter-patter of feet across the floor in the hallway outside but those footfalls had been far too light to be made by her companions. She'd been startled awake by the faint sound of a small intruder. She rose quietly from the desk and grabbed a hammer unfastening the wooden boards that kept the door shut. The others were stirring but she cared not as she slipped out into the hall.

It was quiet as she progressed down the hall with only a small spot of light emanating from the flashlight mounted on her M9. It was still dark down here and Malana was unsure if the schools backup generator was even working. She froze for a moment watching a shadow slip from one room into another. It was small, no more than four feet tall. Malana's heart skipped a beat at the possibility that this might be a child. She raced toward the room her socks slipping along the linoleum tiles as the child emerged from the room in front of her and stood staring. It was a child, sad and pale. The only clean spots on the poor kid's face were two channels carved by tears down its cheeks. Malana reached for it but before she could touch its pale flesh the child was bolting its way toward the stairwell.

Malana took off but somehow the child was faster than her. She followed the lone child out into the open air of the still smoldering city and then the child stopped. Malana sat in the doorway of the school catching her breath and watching the strange sad child. The sound of soft whimpering caught her heartstrings as the poor little girl started crying. Malana eased forward off the stairs and approached the child once more.

"I'm not going to hurt you sweetie," Malana assured the girl, "My name is Malana, what's yours?"

The child turned its head on an angle as if perplexed. Malana was sent reeling back as the child's head continued to turn until it was bent at an impossible angle, a sickening grin grew on the child's face as it opened its mouth to reveal razor sharp teeth.

"What the fuck?"

The infected child took a deep breath in to its sickened lungs and let out an unearthly screech that sent shivers shock-waving across Malana's body. The scream seemed to go on forever and even after the demonic child had finished its vocalization still leapt from building to building echoing onward. Malana lifted her pistol but before she could fire a shot the little girl dashed off. There was no time to follow her either for in the wake of her scream came a horde of infected barreling at breakneck pace toward the schoolyard where Malana stood.

Cursing her own emotions for getting her into trouble she turned and ran for the school shutting the double-doors behind her. She had no time to brace them with anything, the infected horde hit like a ton of bricks launching her away from the door to send her sliding along the tiles. She lifted her pistol picking off the first wave of Infected to come through all while getting to her feet and heading for the stairs. She reloaded in mid-air as she leapt over the railings to halve the time it would take her to make it down the stairs. The infected seemed just as fast, even faster but she couldn't afford to turn and shoot. Screeches and screams of the ravenous horde just behind her kept her legs pumping in desperation as she reached the basement and ran for the saferoom. Fists began pounding onto her back, slowing her as sickly green and gray hands grabbed at her skin seeking to tear her to shreds.

"Duck!" Brutus shouted.

Malana dropped into a fetal position and Brutus, offering a grin to the Doc, opened fire with his M4 assault rifle. Standing beside Brutus Doc picked his shots more wisely aiming for the heads of those infected that avoided death at the hands of Brutus M4 using his M1A scoped rifle. Before the Horde even realized they had new enemies to contend with all three dozen of them lie dead. Doc was the first to rush in clearing off those that had landed on Malana. He had Brutus assist him in getting her into the safe room.

"How is it Doc?" Malana asked, her head still reeling.

"Some minor bruising," Allan replied, "Other than that you seem fine."

"What the hell were you going out alone for?" Brutus asked, "And what was that screeching we heard?"

"There was a little girl," Malana explained, "I thought she wasn't infected. She started screaming and then they just came from everywhere."

"She was infected?" Doc asked and Malana nodded, "Fascinating, it seems that she tried to lead you out there to get you killed."

"I guess there really are still infected left in the city," Kael said with his eyes darting around as though feeling suddenly insecure.

"Yeah," Brutus said reloading his M4, "And now they all know where we are."

"The faster we leave the better," Doc agreed, "Will you be alright Lana?"

The horrid sound of zombies screeching in the distance answered for her. She would have to be alright if she wanted to remain alive. The group grabbed their things and rushed for the back door of the school emerging into the parking lot and scanning the area for incoming infected. Malana lifted her silenced M9 putting down three infected and spending only four rounds doing so as she scouted a path clear of zombies. There was little time to truly choose a path though as dozens of infected emerged from the surrounding area with their sickly white eyes shimmering the morning sun.

Malana directed the group to rush down the nearest street sprinting as fast as their legs would carry them. She quickly saw the error in the decision. The zombies were lean and fast and easily able to keep pace with the group. Each of the survivors was weighed down by a pack in which they kept essential supplies but now that which was essential for survival threatened to kill them as the horde began to codify into a coherent unit and rush toward them. The momentum attained as intense and it forced the four to duck into a nearby store through the shattered glass of the broken front window.

Malana leapt to behind the counter and looked to Brutus who was already ahead of her. He tossed her the M4 and pumped his Remington 870 as the horde crashed into the store. Brutus waited for them to get in close before unleashing his first shotgun shell, the spread of pellets tore into the oncoming horde stealing their momentum almost instantly. Another shot followed and the resounding thud of Brutus's shotgun was soon accompanied by the percussive melody of Malana's M4. In the rounds flew tearing flesh as the horde continued to pour in from every angle. Those that survived the wrathful duo of assault rifle and shotgun dealt with the sting of Doc's scoped rifle and those few that survived that met their end as blood splatters on Kael's baseball bat. Soon enough the horde began to dwindle and the group, low on ammunition and lathered in zombie blood, set out once more into the city.

"That has to be all of them," Doc remarked sadly, "We must've killed close to a hundred."

"More than that," Kael suggested wiping down his bat, "I must have swatted nearly two dozen myself."

"Kid's taking a liking to zombie killing," Brutus said with a grin, "Maybe having him along wasn't such a bad idea."

Brutus hadn't appreciated Malana's decision to bring the young man along for the journey. It wasn't any prejudice he retained against teenagers but more a concern for the young man's life although Brutus was never very good at verbal self-expression. It was that struggle to express himself properly that had turned James Arthur Brutus into a fighter. Although he'd never had the opportunity to make it big Brutus had fought in plenty of street brawls along with several legitimate MMA tournaments. The man was truly built like a tank and stood over six feet three inches with legs like tree trunks. The big man often opined the fact that zombies didn't feel fear for he was certain that if they could feel fear they would turn tail and run the moment they caught sight of him.

Brutus kept a close eye on Malana Landry who was leading the group. While he was in his early forties Malana wasn't even out of her twenties. Beneath layers of dirt and dried zombie blood she was actually quite beautiful. Her parent's had been a perfect blend of races with her Mother somewhere between Hawaiian and Japanese and her Father halfway French and halfway Scandinavian. The result was something like a cross between a Viking warrior and a dainty Hawaiian princess. Brutus had instantly taken a liking to Malana when she had stepped into the dojo only a few months earlier and once the infection hit the two had stuck together.

The group made their way out into the suburbs trying to stay as quiet as possible by switching over to silenced weapons. For Malana that of course meant her Beretta M9 while Brutus made the transition to a compound bow. The blocks slipped by at a slow and steady pace with only a few infected being spotted and most of those too far out of the way to be bothered with. The cool November wind brushed past them stealing the heat that would have come from the midday sun as they neared the outskirts of town. Soon they would be out of the city and that meant the search was now on for a vehicle that worked.

Thanks to military intervention the roads were fairly clear. Harrisburg had been one of the first targets for evacuation but it was the Military and CEDA that had assumed responsibility for such matters and so the city was littered with abandoned cars. Brutus moaned as he checked a nearby truck but as per the rest it was too new to be hot-wired the old fashioned way. Something the big man's attention as Malana tried another car but found it entirely empty of gasoline. Brutus trained his bow on the slow moving target ambling toward them up the street.

"It's a man," Malana announced incredulously, "He doesn't look infected. What do you think Doc?"

"Looks okay," Allan replied taking a look at the man's condition through his rifle scope, "But he's talking."

"Must be delirious," Brutus said and the others nodded as the rambling man approached.

"What's your name dude?" Kael asked leaning against his baseball bat.

"What?" the man asked suddenly stirring from his stupor, "Fucking zombies. . . They took her from me."

The man was horribly disheveled. His hair sticking out in all directions with dried zombie blood coating it and his clothes were torn in several places. There was a bandolier of ammo across his chest and in his hand he gripped tight to a .357 Colt Python. He seemed utterly dissociated from the fact that there were other survivors around them, his eyes were cast against the ground and his hands were shaking. Malana bent and took a cloth from her pack, she wetted it with water from her canteen and took the cloth to the man's face clearing it of dirt and blood and looking into the man's forlorn blue eyes.

"What happened sir?" Malana asked, "We're here to help."

"We shouldn't even be here at all," Brutus protested pointing to the open road.

"Fucking zombies," the man repeated, "all their hands undoing her flesh. Oh God, I can still see it. They killed her."

"Killed who sir?"

"My daughter," the man answered with a whimper, "She was barely fifteen. My wife and I, we, we were going to take her to Gettysburg with us to meet up with my son there. He's in the military, they were going to get us all out. My wife and I, we had supplies, ammunition, everything we needed to get out but then they came and they killed my dear daughter. My wife started to get sick and, well, I came looking for help. . . I fear she's becoming one of them."

"I'm sorry for your loss," Malana said helping the man to his feet and taking a step back, thinking the worst was over.

"I hate them so," the man griped sadly staring at his gun, "I can't bear to live in this Hell. Shiny metal will make the madmen go away."

"Now sir," Malana said taking a step forward.

"Don't stop me," he begged, "I want to be with her. . . Just promise me you'll end her life for me," the man handed them his wallet and pointed out the photo of his wife as he scribbled his address on the back.

"We can survive together," Malana tried.

Malana and the others turned away as the man lifted the barrel and placed it against his temple. A resounding thud rippled through the air as he ended his life. There was little time to grieve however as the deafening sound of the gunshot had set off a nearby car alarm. The neighborhood was now alive with the stomping of feet and the screeching of an army of zombies. The group had no choice but to run for it and try to make it to the man's house.

"Says here his name was Arnold Wilhelm," Brutus remarked slipping the man's Colt Python into his bag before following after the others, "1244 Larch Avenue."

"We'll never make it with this horde on us," Kael remarked as the infected spilled into the street ahead of them.

The young man narrowly avoided a claw to the face from a nearby zombie. He fell to his knees bunting the kneecap of the swatting infected before standing up. As he stood he spun around swinging the bat hard enough to crack through the skull of the next zombie for an instant-kill that brought a satisfying thud along with it. Brutus was at the back of the group spilling arrow after arrow from his quiver as the infected flanked them.

"M4!" Malana demanded as she spent the last round from her M9's magazine.

"Cover me Doc!" Brutus shouted as he took off his backpack and pulled out the M4 tossing it into Malana's waiting hands. He spun then with his shotgun in hand pumping off three shells at the oncoming horde that dropped nearly a dozen of them. Malana was hard pressed to hold them back but she wasn't about to let them overtake Kael. She directed the young man to get back as she spent the last few rounds of the M4 magazine in several successful bursts. She rushed for Brutus's bag and grabbed another magazine but the infected were too fast. Kael stepped in with his bat barreling into the midst of the crowd with a heroic, albeit unwise, charge.

"Damn kid's gonna get himself killed," Brutus moaned reaching into his bag for an item he'd almost forgot they had, "pipe bomb out!"

Brutus tossed the pipe bomb and it bounced along the street beeping as it went. Early on they had discovered that the zombies were attracted to the slightest sound and that fitting an alarm of some kind to an explosive device was highly effective in dealing with the immediate danger of a swarming horde. While the ravenous mob hunted down the source of the new blaring siren Kael slipped out and rejoined the group. All four watched as two dozen of the craven creatures were blasted to oblivion. Limbs and organs and gallons of gore painted the street where the horde had once stood.

"That deals with them," Kael said thinking the day won.

"Except that the explosion will bring in every infected for half a mile," Malana corrected.

They wasted no time. Running as fast as their feet could carry them they found their way to the home of Arnold Wilhelm and slipped inside. They found his wife, her flesh sickly and green, beating against the chest of another infected which she had apparently killed. Offering a silent apology Malana lifted her pistol and pulled the trigger officially ending the life of Arnold's late wife.

"Looks like they had a shitload of guns," Brutus announced after a quick search of the property, "Ammo too."

"Good thing," Allan remarked, "We're all pretty low on ammunition."

"Food and water too," Kael chimed, "and a back-up generator with plenty of gas."

"Board the place up," Malana directed, "We leave this God forsaken city in the morning."

"I told you this city was a dead end," Brutus said.

"Give it a rest James," Malana said using his first name to get on his nerves and judging by the expression that emerged on his face she knew she had succeeded, "Kael, come with me and grab some of that gas."

"Where are we going?" Kael asked glad that he got to go off with the only girl on his own.

"We're going to find a car," Malana answered with a smile.


	2. Chapter 2: The Station

Chapter Two - The Station

Brutus continued to air his complaints aloud as he went to the back of the car and began to push. Ever since they'd been forced off the main highway and onto the back roads the car had been struggling. The rainy conditions had created mud. The near constant stop and go had only served as a distraction from the reality that for the last two hours they'd had little idea where they were going. The battery on the car's dash mounted GPS had died less than an hour into their drive and with the gray clouds suffocating the sun any attempt at determining the correct direction was a mere guess at best. Having to stop to push the car from the mud only made things worse and each exit from the vehicle left them susceptible to attack from the Infected. They'd seen several zombies about an hour ago along what was luckily a portion of the road sheltered from the rain by a thick canopy of tree branches and leaves.

Brutus heaved as hard as he could as Malana hit the gas and powered her way out of trouble. Brutus was glad the car was moving again but as he climbed into the car he was beginning to wonder if there would be an inch of him without mud splattered over it when the day was through. Judging by Kael's childish laughter he could only imagine his entire face was caked with the stuff.

"Please don't make me do that again," Brutus complained.

"Sorry," Malana said, "next time me and the Doc will go, and you can pump the gas."

"Damn right," Brutus said.

"How much fuel do we have left?" Allan asked.

"About half a tank," Malana said, "with the roads like this I don't know how long that'll last."

"Doesn't matter," Brutus griped, "We're lost, even if we followed these windy dirt roads for a hundred miles we'd just end up in some backwoods hick town."

"I have to agree," the Doc said, "We need to find our way back to the highway."

"The only way out of the woods is a map," Brutus said, "barring a miracle in which our GPS suddenly comes back to life I say we ditch the car and cut through the woods on foot."

"There's less than an hour of daylight left Brutus," Malana explained cutting down his idea.

"So," Brutus tried, "there might not be a lot of them out there."

Brutus quieted down. Even he could see the wisdom in Malana's argument and the stupidity of trying to make it on foot, in the mud, through a forest likely teeming with infected. Those infected were probably composed of the people who'd abandoned the endless parade of cars that had prevented their progress and forced them into the forest. There might be hundreds, even thousands of them and each one would be attracted to the slightest noise. Even if they managed to make it through the forest undetected they had little idea which way to go to cut back to the highway. The night would be cold and wet out there in the chilly November rain. No, Brutus decided, even if it was all but futile in the car it seemed no better out there.

Malana felt utterly hopeless and her mind was hard pressed to combat the boredom brought on by hours at the wheel sliding through mud. She felt a small smile creep across her face when she saw that up ahead the road transitioned into pavement. Apparently their long winding road had led them back to some semblance of civilization. She felt a weight lift from her shoulders and a glance at the expressions of the other three survivors told her that they too were relieved. She turned back to the road. She slammed on the breaks immediately, her heart pounding as someone bolted from the woods and raced across the road in front of her. She caught her breath, hardly able to think straight as she gestured for her gun. Brutus passed up her M4 assault rifle with the silencer they'd found amongst Arnold Wilhelm's things attached to it.

She slipped from the car with all four Survivors whispering for her to be careful while they too readied their weapons. Malana saw something else then. At first she assumed it was a bird, it was so high up in the trees. Soon enough she realized the truth though, it was human, or at least it had been. The figure was dressed in a dark hooded sweatshirt and was leaping from tree to tree at an alarming rate. Malana followed behind it thinking it might be chasing after whoever or whatever had dashed in front of the car. Whatever it was it was fast, moving swiftly from tree to tree like a silent hunter stalking its prey. She couldn't keep up. She saw it heave itself from the top of one tree with one last leap but it flew so far she couldn't see it anymore. She could hear screams now, horrifying ones - infected. She burst through the tree-line gawking in horror at the sight of the Hunter tearing into the flesh of the man she'd seen before. Malana lifted her M4 and fired off three shots which burrowed into the Hunter's back. She kept firing until finally nineteen rounds had entered the infected and it fell limp.

Malana rushed to assist the man. She pushed the zombie corpse off of him promising herself to have Doc examine it later. Despite the entire attack lasting less than a minute the man had sustained serious injuries. Malana cursed herself for not having her bag with her, which contained medical supplies. She unzipped her jacket and pressed it against the man's wounds as best she could and called out for her friends. The woods were coming to life with sounds and blurry shapes darted in and out of Malana's line of sight as if waiting to move in.

Brutus crashed onto the scene with a trail of infected behind him. He turned with his machete in hand and cut a line across the first infected's chest. The creature hissed in protest before being trampled by its companions. Brutus hacked the next and the next but they were quickly surrounding him. He spun in a full circle going for their knees. With each zombie unable to walk he slipped from the circle of horde members and gave them a mock salute as Malana opened fire and used the remaining bullets in her M4 magazine to finish them off.

"What's wrong?" Brutus asked.

"He was attacked by some kind of infected," Malana said.

"My angel, you're so beautiful," the man said reaching for Malana.

"He's delirious," Brutus laughed.

"They're going to be on us," Malana protested.

"Please," the man said suddenly seeming coherent, "there's a Ranger Station not far from here. I have supplies there. I'll be okay, just get me the hell out of here!"

Malana and Brutus grabbed the man and rushed as quickly as they could. Luckily Kael and Doctor Wright had arrived and with the aided assistance of their pump action shotguns the entire group managed to make it back to the car. The injured man was forced to lie atop Brutus and Kael while the Doc attempted to mend his wounds as best he could.

"Where is this Ranger Station?" Malana asked.

"Follow this road," the man said whining as Doc put pressure on the bleeding, "third right turn, then the first left and you can't miss it."

The setting sun split through the tree tops as they raced for the Ranger Station. The infected were in frenzy. Dozens rushed out into the road and began beating against the car. Malana tried to speed up but she couldn't risk flooring it and missing the turn on this narrow woodland road. Brutus grabbed his Remington and out the window down feeding the barrel into the nearest zombie's mouth and squeezing the trigger. The Zombie's head erupted into a fountain of blood, brains and skull fragments that stained the trunk of a nearby tree. Brutus pumped the shotgun and took out another one before handing to Kael. The kid cleared the remaining zombies on the right hand side of the car before passing the shotgun up to Malana.

"You could have at least reloaded it!" She griped after firing off the first shell to find the shotgun empty. She struggled to stay on the road while getting out her silenced M9 and popping a nearby zombie. She rolled up her window and shouted for the others to do the same as she dropped the last zombie that was close enough to impede them. They broke free of the horde then and quickly came to the third turn and then the first. The Ranger Station was in view now with windows boarded up, a hefty steel door and a jeep with a make-shift mounted gun in the back parked in the driveway. Unfortunately several infected were already gathered outside as they pulled in.

Brutus grabbed the shotgun from Malana and reloaded it before handing it back to Kael. Brutus was almost proud of the way the kid's face lit up whenever he got to wield the big guns. They pulled up making sure to hit the nearest zombie and leave its blood splattered across the hood. Malana slipped from her seat and grabbed the M4 from Brutus.

"You need an extra magazine?" Brutus asked but Malana was already out of ear shot.

An infected bum rushed her with blood trickling from its horrid mouth. She swung hard and heard a loud crack as the rifle butt of her M4 struck the zombie in the head. Down the infected went but before she could finish it with a shot to the head another one was on her. She fired managing to kill it but its body toppled toward her nearly knocking her to the ground. She managed to stay on her feet but was now getting hit from behind by another infected pounding at her shoulder. She leapt back hip-firing her M4 and dropping the zombie. She could hear the horrid shriek of another one behind her but the deafening sound of a shotgun from behind told her that Kael was watching her six. She breathed a sigh of relief as Brutus and the Doc carried the injured Ranger into the Station. She gave the remaining infected the slip before rushing into the Station.

"Come on Kael," she said in a scolding tone when the young man remained on the porch, "You can kill more of them later. There's no shortage of the damn things."

"Get your ass in here!" Brutus shouted.

Kael pumped the shotgun. He had no shells left. Reluctantly he turned back toward the Station but soon enough his feet had stopped moving forward. He felt as if he was leaving the ground as something seemed to coil around his ankle. He flew back off the porch landing hard against the hood of the car and struggling as the strange serpentine thing constricted his body.

Malana's M4 magazine was spent and her M9 had only four rounds left. She grabbed the nearest weapon she could find, a crowbar sitting on a counter, and sprinted as fast as she could. She wedged the bar under the slimy surface almost unable to believe what she saw when the serpentine enemy that had grabbed Kael retracted itself into the mouth of a nearby infected. Surrounded by a cloud of eerie green smoke the infected coughed and hacked as it bounded away through the woods.

"What the fuck?" Brutus asked aloud watching the, "Was that that things tongue?"

"You alright?" Malana asked and Kael, who felt utterly embarrassed but glad to be alive, nodded.

"Even if he is alright I'm gonna kill him," Brutus growled, "You fucking stupid kid? You nearly got yourself killed, next time you listen to us."

"Never mind that now," Malana said looking around, "The sun is setting and all this noise is bound to attract attention. Let's get inside."

With the heavy metal door to the Ranger Station shut and bolted the group breathed a collective sigh of relief. Malana tended to the injured Ranger and helped Doc seal up the wounds. Luckily the man hadn't been lying; the Station was fully stocked on medical supplies. First Aid Kits were plentiful as were antibiotics, sedatives, pain killers and even surgical equipment. Brutus, of course, bypassed all this to admire the collection of guns. Aside from the standard side-arms issued to Park Rangers and a few hunting rifles there were several assault rifles and plenty of ammo.

"Will he be okay Doc?" Malana asked.

"I gave him a sedative," Allan explained, "He'll be fine, at least if he is immune he will be. I'm curious as to what attacked him, those were deep claws, are you sure it was an infected and not a wild animal?"

"Positive," Malana said, "but it wasn't an ordinary zombie. It moved fast and jumped incredibly far. It tore into him and did that much damage in a matter of seconds. Something is going on with the infected, they're changing."

"The virus is mutating," Doc agreed.

"That explains that thing with the tongue," Kael said with a chill up his spine.

"We need to get out of these woods," Brutus whispered as the sound of infected banging against the door outside.

"I say we get clean," Malana said noting that the lights were on, "This place clearly has back-up generator. We each get ten minutes in the shower."

"And after that?"

"We wait for the Ranger to wake up and then get the hell out of here in that Jeep with the gun."

The group cleaned themselves up before opting to shut down the generator and conserve power as well as fuel. The darkness was pervasive - it seemed to swallow them up. The only noise was the pitter patter of rain and the constant banging of infected fists against the walls and door. Luckily the place was boarded up so solidly that it would have taken an army of a hundred infected to even begin to make a dent. The rain began to die as the group spent the night struggling to find sleep.

Kael lay on his back and looked up at the ceiling. He couldn't see anything. Darkness consumed the entire place making the ceiling above a projector for his thoughts. The day replayed in his head. How fearless he'd felt using the shotgun to tear through two zombies at a time. In an instant he'd gone from invincible to vulnerable when that infected, shrouded in smoke, grabbed him from the porch. He'd gotten a pretty nasty bruise on his back from the impact with the hood of the car but in truth it was his pride that had been injured. He knew why he'd lost sight of his own safety. He understood why it was he was loosing control and having far too much fun zombie killing. He couldn't bear to tell the others though. Only Malana knew the truth and he'd forced her to swear she wouldn't tell. The memories gave him nightmares, nightmares that kept him awake on nights just like this.

He could still hear her crying as she turned. Her shrieks, her claws, and the gun he'd used to kill her. The gun his Father had hid in the pantry all those years. He turned on his side as sleep tried to take him but he was shaken from the sandman's grasp by the sound of someone stirring.

"Am I dead?" a voice asked.

"The Ranger's awake!" Kael exclaimed.

"Keep your voice down kid," Brutus moaned, "Some of us need our beauty sleep."

"I'll start the generator," Malana said grabbing her flashlight.

Soon enough the lights were back on and all but Brutus were up and about. The Ranger seemed for a moment as if he didn't recognize them but when he saw Malana return from the basement a wave of memory crossed his mind.

"Thank you," he said with a smile, "I'm Derrick Green. I work for the Pennsylvania Game Commission - at least I did before all this happened."

"Pleased to meet you Mister Green," Malana said shaking the man's hand.

"His angel," Brutus mocked with a yawn.

"It wasn't me that did most of the work," Malana explained, "That would be Allan over there. Say hello Doc."

"Can we cut the pleasantries and skip to the part where we ride out of here?" Brutus asked packing up his sleeping bag and putting it back into his over-sized pack.

"Mr. Green needs to rest," Doc argued, "We should wait."

"No," the Ranger replied climbing off the medical table and stretching, "I'm fine, thank you. I probably won't be much use in any fight but I'll be able to walk just fine."

"When was the last time you saw an infected just walk?" Brutus said coldly, "Damn things are always full tilt toward you."

"How is it that you're out here all alone?" Kael asked suddenly and Derrick's expression turned very grim indeed.

"I wasn't alone," the Ranger answered with a quiet distant tone, "My brother Chuck was here and my friend Dale. We were attacked and got separated. I ran off into the woods when that jumping zombie started hunting me. I saw Dale get hit by this infected that came charging out of the woods full force and starting slamming him into the ground. I don't know what happened to Chuck."

"We'll go out looking for them at first light," Malana offered softly patting the man on the shoulder.

"Like hell we will," Brutus growled, "If you want to go on some suicide mission in the backwoods of PA and get yourself killed that's your decision but come sun up me and that Jeep are getting out of here."

"Brutus!" Malana shouted but Derrick shook his head trying to diffuse the situation.

"He's right," Derrick said sadly, "My brother is probably dead. We should get out of here at first light. How did you guys end up all the way out here anyway?"

"The highway was a dead end so we decided to take a little detour," Kael explained, "We got hopelessly lost."

"Here," Derrick said gesturing toward something pinned up on a cork board, "This is a map showing all the back roads around here for miles. We also sell PA road maps, just nineteen bucks."

"Ha ha ha," Brutus said sarcastically.

"HELP!"

"What the hell was that?" Brutus asked spinning toward the door.

"HELP!"

"It's coming from outside," Malana whispered.

"Derrick, help me!"

"Holy shit, no," Derrick said, his face growing pale as could be, "It can't be. My, my, brother."

"HELP! Help before they get me!"

"You sure it's him?" Malana asked.

"It's definitely his voice," Derrick nodded, "And who else would know my name."

"Brutus, M4," Malana demanded and she scowled at the massive man angrily when he didn't move to get her gun immediately, "Brutus!"

"You can't be serious Mal," Brutus said using his personal pet-name for her, "You could get hurt."

"I'll go with her," Derrick announced grabbing a hunting rifle and making sure it was loaded.

Brutus reluctantly retrieved her weapon and made sure she had an extra magazine just in case. The voice was still calling weakly for help and it seemed just outside the door as Malana and Derrick moved to undo the bolt. The door swung open. To their surprise there weren't any infected on the porch at all. Apparently hours of fruitless pounding had eventually convinced them to seek violence elsewhere. Derrick's heart skipped a beat when he saw his brother laying face down just beyond the porch. He rushed forward and grabbed him. Only the did he note the crimson puddle forming beneath his brother and the scratches across the man's face, the cold look in his eyes, told the rest of the story.

"He's dead," Derrick said choking on the words.

"He's been dead for hours," Malana said feeling the man's flesh.

"How the hell did he call for help then?" Derrick asked, "He had to have been alive, and we're just too late."

"No," Malana said, "look up there in the trees, look at those eyes."

Up above them perched on a branch sat a blackened shape. Its demonic eyes shined in the dim light cast by the moon. Malana stepped back with her rifle at the ready. She called for Derrick to retreat with her back up the stairs and into the Station but he seemed unresponsive. She watched him lift the hunting rifle.

"HELP!"

The voice of his brother cried out again but this time Derrick knew the deception. He knew that the voice came not from his brother but from the foul lips of an infected. He took aim and fired. The shot split the air of the silent November night but missed the infected. Down the demon swooped on wings of skin that had grown between arms and torso. Legs with hooked talons at the end of what used to be toes reached forth gripping Derrick's uniform and lifting him into the air as a horrific shriek resounded in the night. Malana watched with her heart racing and her mind too deep in shock to even move for the first few seconds. The forest around her was coming to life now, the screeching of the winged zombie alerting a horde of infected to their location. She lifted her M4 using the glint of moonlight on the gargoyle's wings to aim and shoot. Down the demonic infected fell spiraling. Derrick slipped from its grip and crashed amidst the trees although Malana couldn't see where or if he had landed safely. She had no time to think about it as the horde descended.

"HORDE!" She shouted.

The other survivors leapt into action. Kael went for the shotgun but Brutus was there, luckily he had something even better to offer the kid. Kael stepped out onto the porch wielding the .357 Colt Python they'd recovered in Harrisburg. He lifted the gun and pulled back the hammer. The recoil was incredibly strong, the barrel leapt up but the shot had been dead on blowing out a nearby zombie's kneecap leaving him bleeding out on the forest floor. Brutus stepped out with his shotgun leveling a crowd of four oncoming infected with one spread.

Doc arrived and Malana had him switch rifles with her. She needed his scoped M1A to keep Derrick clear. She could see the man now, rushing toward them but struggling to keep the zombies off his back and limping. She picked off the zombies chasing after him one at a time but despite being a good shot she still had to pick her targets carefully to avoid injuring Derrick. She threw the rifle down and grabbed the crowbar she'd left laying on the porch. She waded out into the horde hooking zombie skulls and beating them back as she cut a path toward Derrick. Normally this would have been suicide but with the others working to thin the herd she actually made good progress while only sustaining a few minor bumps and bruises on route.

"Help!" Derrick shouted her way.

She looked up to see him wrapped in the slimy tongue of the smoking zombie they'd seen just the other day. She cursed herself for not having her weapon as the tongue pulled Derrick nearly thirty feet into the air. There was little she could do now for him but a few moments later the zombie seemed to erupt into a puff of smoke as a series of rounds from Doc's M1A hit it. The tongue relaxed and done Derrick went. Malana heard his legs hit the ground with a sickening crack. She rushed toward him as the infected surrounded him. She beat them back with her crowbar as they pounded the already heavily wounded Ranger. She split skulls and felt splatters of blood against her recently cleaned skin. Finally the horde was cleared away and the gunfire on the porch of the Station attracted the few zombies that remained. She bent down to examine the man's wounds. His leg bones jutted from his skin painfully and blood surrounded him, scratches and bruises were everywhere and he coughed up blood as he stared up at her barely clinging to consciousness.

"I'm done. I'm done," the man repeated.

"No," Malana said trying to stem the flow of blood, "I can get you back to Doc, he can fix this."

"Did anyone ever tell you how beautiful you are?" Derrick said with a smile, "If only you weren't so damn optimistic."

Malana watched the life leave his body. She felt a sudden surge of rage and sadness as the man passed from existence despite her best efforts to get to him and save him. She found herself frustrated that the horde had trickled to a stop and she had no zombies to kill. She walked back to the Ranger Station with a despondent look on her blood splattered face. The others tried to comfort her. Even Brutus said a few kind words about the Ranger and about Malana's valiant effort to save the man. Nothing seemed to shake her sadness. Even the sunrise didn't put a smile on her lips.

The group readied supplies almost in silence and loaded up the Jeep with enough food, fuel and ammunition to last them to Gettysburg.

"I get the mini-gun!" Brutus said approaching the Jeep.

"No," Malana said, "I want the gun."

"Revenge won't help," Doc tried to convince her.

"He's right," Kael said, remembering how his desire for wanton zombie killing had nearly gotten him killed.

"You think you can follow the map Brutus?" Malana asked.

"I think I can handle it," Brutus said with a look of concern on his face, "You gonna be alright?"

Malana hit the trigger to make the mini-gun barrel spin without firing. A smile came across her lips.

"Yeah," she replied, "I'll be just fine."


	3. Chapter 3: Fuel Tank

Chapter Three - Fuel Tank

Malana scanned the roadside carefully, her sharp eyes searching the tree-line for any sign of infected. Their trip out of the woods had taken a toll on ammunition for the mounted gun but ever since their emergence back onto main roadways they'd encountered very few zombies. The biggest obstacle had been finding a route to Gettysburg that wasn't choked by abandoned vehicles or blocked off by an equally abandoned CEDA road block. They had been on the road for five hours trying to get a city that was only about an hour away from where they were. Brutus' inability to read the map correctly hadn't helped but luckily that was a problem they'd solved fairly early on. Doc was now reading the map and helping direct Brutus toward a small nearby town where they hoped to find some desperately needed fuel for the Jeep.

The houses came into view and soon enough so did the roof of the gas station. Malana knew they would have to be careful. In the post-apocalyptic world the infected weren't the only threat. Gasoline was now a major commodity and she was worried that if anyone had remained in the town they would be guarding it well. There were no signs of life as the Jeep screeched to a halt beside the gas pump and the group piled out to stretch their legs.

"Can we go for a walk?" Kael asked, truthfully sick and tired of being cramped up in the jeep.

"I wouldn't recommend it," Malana replied lifting the gas cap and inserting the pump while her eyes continued to dart around.

"The kid might be right," Doc said, "We need food anyway. I'll go with him."

"Alright Doc but it's your funeral," Brutus growled and Malana waved them away in apparent agreement with the sentiment,"

Kael grabbed the Remington shotgun but Brutus cut him an angry look and he had to settle for the Colt Python and his baseball bat. They set out toward the houses first cautiously approaching the first. Doc leaned down to examine several scratches on the door, deep gouges from the wood. He opened the door slowly. It was dark inside. A waft of air carried with it the stench of death as the two of them made their way slowly inside. Kael squeezed his bat anxiously as they continued into the kitchen. The source of the smell became apparent. The Fridge was open and inside was various meats and other perishables that had clearly been decaying for some time.

"No food here," Doc announced quietly.

"Doc Wright," Kael said as they exited the house, "Do you ever think things will go back to normal? Do you think maybe somewhere out there there's a place where the infection hasn't hit yet and it's peaceful?"

"I'm guessing that wherever people are the infection is," Doc replied grimly as they reached the next house, "Or it will be there soon enough. This thing spreads like no pathogen I've ever seen."

"So than why do we go on living?" Kael asked when they had reached the next fridge and found it empty, "If the whole thing is fucked than why don't we just kill ourselves?"

"The very fact we are still alive means there is some small hope," Doc answered, "A bit of fuel left to restart the human race when the infected finally die... We are immune Kael, we wouldn't have lived this long if we weren't."

The two of them found the next three houses in ruins. The roofs appeared to have been broken down from the outside in and the furniture had been overturned. A massive hole in the wall on the side seemed to suggest something either exiting or entering. Kael suggested it might be tornado damage but the worried look on Doc's face told him that something far more dangerous than Mother Nature was at work here. They took what little food there was in the house, mainly canned goods, and rushed back to the gas station.

"How'd the date go ladies?" Brutus asked chuckling.

"There's massive damage to some of these homes, I'm not sure they were made by infected," Doc explained, "The military might have done it, but I'm not sure."

"And the food?"

"Not much," Kael admitted sadly, "We should check the station's mini market."

"Alright you two," Malana said handing Kael the M4, "but watch your asses."

"Don't spoil the kid," Brutus said when Kael was far enough away, "You gotta build up to stuff like that, I'm not even sure he can handle that sort of weapon."

"Have some faith in your fellow man Brutus," Malana scolded.

"Fellow man?" Brutus scoffed, "The kid's voice has barely broken and you think he's a man?"

Doc walked toward the darkened market with his weapon drawn. He could hear something very faint. At first he thought it was merely a breeze whispering through the trees but the air was soon still and the sound became clearer. It was a crying, a moaning, a sound filled with profound sadness. He felt his heart drop as he stepped into the doorway and caught sight of the figure standing inside the shadowy shop with her back turned and body slouched. Her head was buried in her palms and she sobbed uncontrollably. Doc looked back to Kael for a moment noting that the kid's face was drawn up in untold horror.

"Kael," Doc said, "What is it boy? We've got a survivor here, I need you snap out of your stupor and help me get her to talk."

Doc turned back and realized his mistake. She was facing him now, her piercing red eyes shimmering in the deep gloom that consumed the shop. She was screaming in a horrid rage and out came her claws. Doc tried to back away but she was too fast, her strike too precise. Her razor nails ripped at his flesh repeatedly and Doc fell to the floor trying to shield himself and crying for Kael to help him. The boy seemed too shocked, too utterly terrified as the shrieking Witch tore into Doctor Wright. He knew that he should spring into action to help his friend but his haunted memories stopped him.

Brutus rushed into the shop pushing past Kael and lifting his shot gun. He unloaded two shells worth of pellets into the enraged Witch but the demonic thing just kept scratching despite being missing large chunks of flesh and muscle. Brutus pumped again and again until all eight rounds had found the Witch and with a shriek she collapsed to the floor in a pool of blood that now mixed with Doc's own.

"Kael!" Brutus shouted, "Snap out of it kid and go get the medicine kit! Run kid!"

Kael returned to reality and was served with a heaping helping of guilt from his own conscience as he rushed toward the Jeep and pulled Brutus's massive pack from the back. He grabbed the medical supplies out stopping only for a moment when a horrid howling, like a hundred ravenous voices, resounded all around them. He rushed the supplies to Brutus who tried to stem the flow of blood from Doc's wounds as best he could. Doc, whimpering and barely conscious, tried to direct the man in the proper medical procedure but he could barely form a coherent word let alone a complete sentence. Brutus bit the cap off an adrenaline shot and delivered it into Doc as well as offering the map a bit of morphine to dull the pain as the bleeding slowly subsided.

"Malana is going to need help," Brutus said, "the horde is coming. Give her the M4 and kid," Brutus tossed his shotgun to Kael exchanging it for the kids Colt Python and shutting the market's doors tight behind him. Luckily the doors had been boarded up with wood replacing the glass that normally would have been in them.

Kael rushed out to meet Malana and handed her the M4 while reloading the Remington. Malana saw there were shapes moving through the trees, the sickly green-gray flesh of infected and the shimmering eye shine that sent a chill down her spine. She lifted her M4 and fired away landing several body shots on the nearest infected. She'd taken aim on her next target before the first even hit the ground and it too had bullets tear holes into its center of mass. Kael was hard pressed to find a target even near enough to be injured by the shotgun as Malana was taking care of most of those that emerged. He saw one then, one that was perched high up in the trees. He watched as it leapt from one tree to the next and then catapulted itself toward them with claws positioned to pounce. He lifted the shotgun, pumped it and felt a blood sprinkle his cheek as the Hunter's head exploded in mid-pounce and its corpse crashed into the pavement.

"Nice shot kid," Malana congratulated taking out another three zombies in a horizontal spray of short bursts from the M4.

They heard something else then, something that none of them had ever heard. The strange roar lasted for a long while. It was deep and afterwards everything seemed to grow silent. The horde seemed to almost calm down now and a rumbling in the ground told Malana that what was about to happen was far from good.

"That couldn't be a zombie could it?" Brutus asked, poking his head out from with the shop, "It would have to be the biggest mother ever."

"Can you move the Doc?" Malana asked.

"He's in rough shape but I think he'll be alright to move," Brutus replied trying to get the half-conscious man to his feet.

"No," Doc said, "You've got to get out of here. Go!"

"You don't wanna be left for dead do you Doc?" Brutus said picking the man up and hoisting him over his shoulder.

"You don't understand, this thing is going to be huge. The damage on those houses... this thing is going to be big."

"How big?" Brutus asked.

"Big," Doc replied, "And built like a fucking tank."

Malana reloaded her M4 and waved Brutus as she watched the tree-line above the station for signs of the coming monstrosity. She could see birds fleeing in its wake and hear the sound of crashing lumber. She turned to the backpack and reached inside fumbling for something that she knew Brutus would be carrying. She found it buried in a side-pouch, a bottle of Jack. She tore off a piece of cloth and ignored Brutus' protesting as he got into the jeep and tried to situate the Doc in a comfortable position. Malana readied a match and waited for the beast with her Molotov in hand.

"We're gonna light this mother and run," Malana explained, "Brutus, get into the driver seat, Kael, you get the big gun."

"What did I tell you about spoiling him Mal?" Brutus argued.

"Not now," Malana said.

The Tank emerged from the trees and stumbled onto the roof of the mini-mart. It was massive, nearly nine feet tall with long arms as thick as tree trunks and built of bulging muscle. With a grotesque bald head and a chest as wide as the front of a city bus the beastly infected leapt down onto the pavement nearly cracking it in the process. Malana felt a wave of fear as she lit the Molotov and tossed it at the charging Tank. It broke over the creature's chest engulfing it in flames. She saw her mistake then, realizing that the entire station could now go up in flames she screamed for Brutus to hit the gas and leapt into the Jeep. It happened far too quickly, the station exploded jolting the jeep forward and causing it to tip on its side and slide along the road. Though bruised they had to act quickly as the stomping Tank, somehow still alive, stormed out of the fire with wisps of flame still smoldering on his shoulders.

"I told you it was a Tank," Doc said as Brutus pulled him to his feet and helped him away from the wrecked Jeep.

Suddenly the sound of machinegun fire filled the air, the spinning of a mini-gun was unmistakable though none of the four Survivors were near the Jeep and even if they had been the gun was on its side as was the entire vehicle. They watched an armored military personnel carrier storm down the street. A mini-gun mounted on top of it struck the Tank with more than a hundred rounds every second. The towering titan took cover behind the Jeep and rammed its knuckles into the ground. Its gargantuan digits grasped a boulder of asphalt and rent it from the ground below hurling it toward the APC forcing the gunner to duck inside. Wounded but somehow still on its feet the Tank bounded away toward the woods leaving the four Survivors bewildered but happy to be alive.

The APC rolled up beside them and opened up its doors.

"You folks immune too?" the man inside, dressed in a tattered blood covered military uniform, asked, "Hop in."

The four of them sat silently in the APC for the first few minutes of the trip. They were tired, dirty, and had been taxed to their limit in an ordeal that had only lasted a few minutes. Doc's head lolled back and forth as he faded in and out of consciousness. Despite having sustained fairly serious lacerations from his encounter with the Witch Brutus's makeshift medical intervention had proved pretty successful. He wasn't losing blood any more. The pain was still intense for him and it left him struggling to stay alert and awake. Doc could see that Kael was looking at him with an expression of guilt on his face.

"Don't feel bad," Doc mumbled, "Fear is natural."

"Just 'cause it's natural don't mean it's good," Brutus spat, "We can't have him freezing up like that."

"I'm not usually afraid of the infected," Kael said, "It's just, I've run into that sort before... before we met. Please understand."

"What makes them any scarier than the others, just because the bitch cries doesn't mean she's scary."

"It's not just fear," Kael replied, "Before you guys found me I'd only encountered one zombie. You see my Dad was off on a business trip and I was at home alone with my older sister. She'd always sort of been by baby sitter I guess but I was angry because at sixteen I didn't think I needed one. Anyway we got into a fight because I wanted to go out after curfew, this was before CEDA had started the evacuations... she wouldn't let me. I ended up hitting her," Kael seemed on the verge of tears but he managed to hold them back and continue his story, "I came upstairs, to apologize and I could hear her crying... I... I opened the door and went up to her. She had those piercing eyes. She attacked me and I had to kill her. I had to kill my own sister."

Kael felt Malana put a comforting arm around him as tears escaped his eyes. She was the only one who had known the truth about what had happened to him. He'd been trapped with his sister's infected corpse in his home in Harrisburg for almost a week before they arrived. Trapped in that house haunted by what he'd been forced to do, haunted by the fact that the last thing his sister knew in this world was being struck by her own brother. Now his guilt, his memories, had caused Doc undue pain as well.

"That's a pretty messed up story kid," one of the soldiers said, "And that's coming from someone who did two tours in Afghanistan. Name's Ryan, Corporal Jarrod Ryan."

"You were in the war?" Kael asked hoping to take his mind off of his memories.

"Yep," the man replied, "I'm trained Marine Scout Sniper but over there they had me doing all sorts of things. I've seen some wild shit. We messed up that part of the world pretty bad, although it was pretty messed up before we got there too... I only got back home a few months ago. It didn't take long before this place was messed up too. So where you four headed?"

"Gettysburg," Malana answered, "We heard there was an evacuation, CEDA and the Military. A man told us to come here and look for his son, a man named Arnold Wilhelm."

"Charlie Wilhelm's Dad," Jarrod replied lighting a cigarette, "Charlie's back in Gettysburg with the others."

"And the evacuation?" Kael asked with hope simmering in his bright blue Irish eyes.

"I don't know how to say this," Jarrod said taking a long drag, "but there ain't no evacuation. We were supposed to be part of one but at the last moment CEDA and half our goddamn battalion pulled out on us. We expected some choppers but nothing ever came."

"Great," Brutus said, "Just great. I knew the Military was no good but fucking CEDA, gutless scientist bastards."

"We're nearly there now," Jarrod said, "We'll get your friend here to medical and set you up with some ammunition and sleeping space if you want it."

"Thank you Corporal Ryan," Malana said.

"Call me Jarrod Ma'am."

The APC came to a stop less than fifteen minutes later and the three soldiers inside exited first making sure the area was secure before directing the four survivors into the safe house. Amazingly rather than having any new military fortification built the group were using an old Hotel that was built in the 1860s during the Civil War. They had fortified it with lumber boarding up all walls and windows and bracing them with heavy objects some of which were priceless antiques that had been on display in the city. Across the street from the Hotel was the Gettysburg Hospital allowing Jarrod and the others access to medial supplies necessary to keep everyone healthy.

Aside from Jarrod and the other two soldiers in the APC there were six military men in the Hotel and another thirty or forty currently out hunting for supplies. Apparently the APC and the Hotel's back up generators ran on diesel and such fuel was hard to come by in the post-apocalyptic world. The solution was typically to use frenchfry oil from fast-food restaurants but even that would eventually run out. There were also fifteen or so regular civilian survivors including three children under ten. Malana hated to see them cooped up like this. The world wasn't safe for adults so keeping children safe was no small task in a city infested with infected.

"Private Gutierrez I want you to take the good Doctor here down to medical," Jarrod said helping Doc into a wheel chair, "And send Private Wilhelm up, he's got company."

Malana felt a rush of nervousness when she heard the name. Flashes of what had happened in Harrisburg filled her mind. How would she break it to this poor boy that his Father had blown his brains out and his Mother had been amongst the infected when they found her? She felt even weaker at the knees when she saw his young face, he didn't look a day over twenty as he approached her and saluted his superior officer.

"This is Private Charlie Wilhelm," Jarrod said, "Private, this is..."

"Malana," Malana said shaking the man's hand nervously, "Malana Landry."

"She ran into your Father," Jarrod said, "If you excuse me, I'm gonna go check on the Doc."

"You saw my Father?" Charlie asked with an inquiring grin, "How is he? Is he here? Or is he making the trip with a different group?"

"I'm afraid he isn't coming, Charlie," Malana struggled to speak as she explained, "He was killed."

"My Mother too?" Charlie asked, and as Malana nodded she saw the sadness wash over his face, "I guess I should have suspected as much. Zombies are everywhere... they, they didn't get infected did they?"

"No," Malana half-lied, "They told us to find you and tell you if something happened and they couldn't make it."

"I understand," the Private replied, "Thank you for honoring what they asked and coming to find me. I'm just sorry the evacuation wasn't here like you expected. Reports have come in from all over the place of evacuations being scrapped in favor of bombing cities wholesale. Luckily Gettysburg isn't all the big so I don't think they'll wind up bombing us. I just can't believe the Military, our own fellow soldiers, would do this to us."

"I can," Brutus interjected, "I mean it isn't like they get their orders from other grunts, they get 'em from some General who gets his orders from some asshole President in a bunker. Unless CEDA has suspended the Constitution and assumed complete control"

"Anyway," Charlie said standing and offering a slight smile, "Welcome to Gettysburg, I'll show you around."

Doc lay on his back with his chest heaving. His breathing was fairly labored and brought with it agony as his scratched and torn flesh contracted and expanded with each breath. He took off his jacket, covered in blood that was a blend of infected and his own, and tossed it onto the floor. His wallet slid out of the pocket and across the floor to where Jarrod Ryan and a friend of his, a medic, stood.

"So what's your story Doc?" Jarrod asked picking up the wallet and walking toward the man.

"Pretty uninteresting one actually," Doc replied coughing and reaching for the wallet. He didn't get a good grip on it and it fell to the floor open. The Corporal bent to pick it up but his eyes went wide when he saw the ID card inside marked with a familiar logo.

"Uninteresting my ass," the Corporal said, "This is a CEDA clearance ID Badge."

"Yes," Doc said, "I worked with CEDA, but not in an official capacity. They brought me in because I know about diseases, I'm a pathologist, they tried to recruit as many civilian scientists and doctors as they could. I was one of them. Please don't tell the others, they would think me a traitor, a monster."

"You were looking for a cure?" Jarrod asked as the medic began to mend the man's wounds.

"Yes," Doc coughed, "But then the team started getting infected. I had to run for it. I made it to a boat... The others picked me up a few miles North of Riverside. Please don't tell. I'm still looking for a cure."

"Good," Jarrod said as the medic prepared to put Doc under for surgery, "We need you to keep working on it."

"Why?" Doc asked as he grew sleepy.

"Because our Sergeant is becoming one of them," Jarrod answered.

Doc tried to form a reply but the waking world was fading and soon an unnatural sleep stole him away.


	4. Chapter 4: Sickness

Chapter Four - Sickness

Malana felt the warmth of the sun's first rays strike her flesh and slowly stirred from sleep. She opened her eyes and slid to the edge of the bed stretching and yawning. She felt refreshed as she leapt out of the hotel bed and got some clothes out of the nearby dresser. It had been the first peaceful night of sleep she'd had in weeks. Normally her nights were filled with grizzly images of blood splatters and corpses but the warm inviting bed of the hotel had saved her from such haunting visions. She slipped into the shower. Despite taking a shower the night before she still felt grimy and felt it necessary to get rid of the caked on blood and dirt entirely this time. She made quick work of getting herself clean hoping to save some hot water for the others who called the hotel home. She stopped in front of the mirror noticing the myriad of scrapes and bruises that were usually hidden beneath her clothing. The toll the zombie apocalypse was having on her body sometimes escaped her. When their survival was at stake it was often hard to even feel the pain caused when an infected hit her.

She got dressed and slipped into the hall. The hotel was lit up with people talking and as Malana made her way toward the stairs she began to get an idea of what was happening. Apparently the day before three teams had been sent out scouting for supplies but only two had returned. She stepped into the lobby where Private Wilhelm and his fellow soldiers were in an argument with one of the women who called the hotel home. Brutus and Kael had both attempted to stop the senseless argument but had failed and were now watching from the side-lines. Malana stepped in between the woman and the soldiers immediately bringing the discussion to a halt.

"What's all this about?" Malana asked trying to calm the situation.

"Her husband," Charlie explained, "He was with a supply team that hasn't come back. She wants us to go look for them but with two of the teams returning and in dire need of sleep we don't have the man-power to go out."

"In dire need of sleep," the woman spat, "You're just a bunch of cowards!"

"Cowards!" One soldier screamed, "You try fighting to the death with a dozen of those things. Especially these new ones. You want your husband back! You go out there yourself!"

"Maybe I will!" the woman yelled but one of her children began to cry for her from across the room and she left to go comfort him. The soldiers jeered at her as she retreated toward her room.

"I'll go," Malana said and the room grew suddenly silent once more, "I'll go look for the missing team. My friends will go too."

"We will?" Brutus asked, he was seated across the room still stuffing his face with pancakes.

"Yes," Malana said, "What about you Kael?"

"I'm not sure," Kael said looking at Brutus for an answer but seeing the bulky fighter was too caught up in his breakfast to offer any guidance.

"Me too," a young woman seated nearby said.

"Malana, everyone, this is Jessica Malone," Charlie said introducing her, "Don't let her age and appearance fool you, she can handle herself out there."

Kael looked over to her and nearly fell over where he stood. She was fiercely beautiful and young as well something that made him all the more excited about the prospect that she was a badass zombie killer. The sunlight that filtered in from outside seemed to shimmer in her steel-blue eyes. She stood up allowing her almond colored hair to hang down all the way to the small of her back but she quickly did it up into a compact ponytail. Kael's heart was beating in his ears so loud that he couldn't even hear himself when he told Malana he would definitely be going along.

"I suppose I'll go too," Charlie said.

"You guys aren't gonna have any fun without me," Brutus chimed in officially, "Besides, my pancakes are gone and I need to work up an appetite if I want to eat more of them."

"There are six, we should have at least seven, "Charlie protested.

"I'll do it," another soldier said, "I knew some of the guys on that team... They would do the same if I was missing."

"Okay," Charlie said, "We need to get a vehicle fueled up and ready to go and get everyone some weaponry. I'll show you guys to the weapons room. We've got plenty of guns and ammo for everyone."

"You know Wilhelm," Brutus said holding a Spas-15 Semi-Automatic Shotgun in his hands, "I'm starting too really like it here."

Doc felt the world returning to him. His eyes slowly opened to the blurry sight of a familiar figure standing over him. He smiled when he saw Malana's clean smiling face. Usually all of their faces were far from clean and far from smiling and seeing her in that state instantly brought a smile to his face. He tried to prop himself up but found it extremely difficult. Every muscle in his body ached as he struggled to get himself into a seated position. He fumbled at the bedside stand hoping to find his glasses only to soon realize that they were already on his face as the blurriness wore off and Malana came into focus.

"My head," Doc said.

"You were hurt pretty rough according to the medic," Malana said, "Luckily they managed to piece what was left of you together."

"Remind me to avoid those crying things," Doc said, "What did you call them?"

"Witches," the Medic said, "Only not the funny kind that ride on brooms."

"I don't suppose you'll be in any condition to go with us," Malana lamented.

"Sorry Lana."

"That's alright," Malana reasoned, "You can stay here and help the Medic out with your brain power. Two egg heads like you should be able to cure this infection in no time."

"There's that insufferable optimism I love so much about you," Doc chuckled, "Be careful out there."

Malana walked out the door leaving the Doc with his thoughts. He glanced around the rudimentary medical chamber the military men had set up in the basement of the hotel. He slid to the side of the bed and tried to stand up. His muscles ached but he managed to amble across the room before deciding to collapse into a nearby chair. He was still sore in a great many place but he hoped to be able to get to work right away.

"Doctor Allan Wright," the Medic said, "Civilian Doctor working for CEDA."

"You know my story," Doc said, "What's yours?"

"Name's Owen, Owen Grey. I'm an Army Medic. I did a tour of duty in Iraq back in 2003. Ever since that time I've had trouble adapting to normal life. Believe it or not the zombie apocalypse has been sort of a godsend to me. It gives me a chance to practice what I was taught, to help people."

"It is both a horrible occurrence and a golden opportunity," Doc admitted, "Whatever this disease is it is unlike anything we've ever seen."

"How much do you know about it?"

"We worked on a cure for more than a week before my fellow scientists started to turn. We learned a lot about what wouldn't work as a cure. Antibiotics, flu vaccines of every kind, we even tried creating a vaccine from the virus but the dead virus somehow mutated, it changed while dead."

"The infected are doing the same aren't they?"

"I'm not sure," Doc confessed, "I'm not even sure if they're technically dead."

"Let me show you the Sarge and maybe we can learn once and for all."

Doc struggled back to his feet and followed the young man down a series of twisting corridors that had been built before the civil war as a secret place to store munitions for the Union Army. As they walked Doc noted the smell of rot and flesh becoming more and more apparent until at last Owen stopped. At the end of the tunnel Doc could see blue sheet hanging down blocking his view of whatever lay beyond it. Covered in blood and some unidentified black liquid the sheet swayed gently as a draft wafted down the tunnel bringing with it some much needed fresh air. Owen moved the sheet revealing the horrible scene of what had once been his Commanding Officer. The horrible infected creature craned its neck up at the two intruders who had suddenly become visible and rose to its feet. One its arms had grown to an enormous size while the other seemed to have shriveled up and now hung lifelessly at the creature's side. The festering infected was surrounded by piles of meat.

"This thing was your Sergeant?" Doc asked; he was barely able to look at it out of sheer disgust.

"Sergeant Eric Cameron," Owen confirmed, "We gave him the meat to see if they eat anything. He takes a bite now and then but he doesn't seem to actually need it to survive."

The creature shrieked suddenly and rushed forward toward them at break neck pace. Doc was sure the disgusting zombie would easily break free of the numerous chains that had been strapped around its limbs to keep it tethered to the wall. It screamed and howled when it realized it could not reach its newfound prey items and even seemed to murmur something speech-like beneath its breath before charging out again to the maximum length the chains would allow.

"When he first turned he tried to grab someone and pound them into the ground," Owen said as he turned to make the journey back down the tunnel, "Nearly broke Private Gutierrez's face open but his arm wasn't that big then. He's changed a great deal just in the last week."

"Incredible," Doc said, "We'll need to get a sample of his blood."

"Do you think we could find a cure Doctor Wright?" Owen asked with optimism and desperation in his tone.

"I don't know," Doc admitted, "But we'll sure as hell try."

The armored van rolled to a halt in the center of town marked by a circular roadway that acted as a hub for the whole city. In the center were a small patch of bushes and shrubs and a tattered American flag hanging atop a flagpole. That banner was a painful reminder of how much they'd taken life for granted before the infection hit. Now life was truly a struggle and all the little things in life that had annoyed them seemed like trivial nonsense compared to fighting the infected just to stay alive.

Charlie told them there was a safe house in the bank just across the street where the team might have holed up for the night if they were being chased by the horde. The group readied their weapons as the Private opened up the door. As Kael stepped onto the street he was focused more on Jessica than on any danger that might be lurking nearby. Her bangs danced in the November breeze and the late morning sun shined off her eyes. Even more intriguing was her weapon of choice... A Sledgehammer. Kael was amazed that such a seemingly dainty girl would be willing to wield so bulky a weapon particularly because her only other weapon was a small full-auto machine pistol known as the MP9 that she had holstered on her hip.

The streets seemed deserted as the group made their way toward the safe house. The other soldier, Private Chris Jordan, whistled nervously and Jessica patted the shaft of the sledgehammer against he palm. Kael had opted to take the most light-weight assault rifle they'd had, the XM-8. Made of a special kind of plastic it weighed far less than the other weaponry but packed equal fire power. Malana stood beside him with her M4 now decked out with a tripod, night vision scope with optical zoom, a silencer and extended magazines putting her up to fifty rounds. Brutus gripped tight to his Spas-15 but he also had his old crossbow strapped to his back just in case and had procured himself an entrenchment tool as a melee weapon.

All seemed silent as they stepped up to the bank doors and walked inside but an infected nearby, dressed as a bank clerk, shrieked at them and ran forward. Jessica waved everyone back and swung her sledgehammer down and around like a golf swing. It cracked heavily against the creature's chest sending it stumbling backward. She lifted the hammer again and this time with a baseball bat style arc struck it right in the head. The hammer hit its head into the wall and a burst of blood squirted from the cracks that had formed in the infected's skull. Unfortunately the shriek of the infected had reached beyond the bank doors and more zombies were already on the way.

"I don't get it," Private Jordan groaned as the horrid shrieks of an incoming horde sounded, "There were none of them out there."

The others seemed uninterested in analyzing infected behavior and had made it to the safe room which was located inside the bank's vault. The soldier rushed to join them and quickly clamored inside with the infected hot on his heels. They shut the door behind them listening to the horrid shrieks and pangs as the infected horde slammed into the door and tried to claw there way through.

"Shit," Jordan complained, "Now we're stuck in here."

"At least now we know where the missing team isn't," Jessica said.

"I don't suppose there's any money left in this vault, is there?" Brutus asked with a sudden grin on his face.

"Why?" Kael asked, "You gonna bribe the fucking zombies?"

"Smart ass," Brutus chuckled. The group grew silent after that. No one was quite sure what to do or how to get out without being consumed by the horde. The minutes passed slowly.

"I say we open the door," Malana suggested, shattering the silence.

"Are you crazy?" Brutus asked, finally sitting down after spending the entire time searching for cash.

"We've still got a mission and we can't waste a whole lot of time trapped in this safe house," Malana said, "Besides, the vault door will bottle neck their numbers and we can mow them down as they enter."

"I like this new girl," Jessica said wiping blood from her sledgehammer, "I say we do it."

"Me too," Private Jordan agreed, "I don't want to be stuck in here."

"Perhaps it wasn't my best idea having us fall back here," Charlie admitted, "Alright, I'm going to open the door and hit the dirt, you six form a firing line but don't shoot until I'm out of the way."

The six of them moved into position with all but Jessica getting out their primary firearms and preparing to engage the horde. Charlie stepped up to the vault door. Sweat poured down his brow as he worked up the courage to open it despite the horrific sounds of the infected just beyond. He grasped the door and heaved it open before turning and running for his life. He dived behind the six of them and grabbed his M16. The others had already opened fire as the howling horde clamored to get into the room. Heads exploded, blood sprayed all over the walls, bits of bone and flesh scattered to and fro and intestines spilled. The bodies began to pile up and the group each reached the end of their magazines but the horde was still coming.

Jessica grinned and leapt across the firing line with sledgehammer in hand. As the group reloaded she stood toe to toe with the infected that were now forced to funnel to either side of a corpse pile nearly three feet tall. She knocked the first infected from his feet by hooking him with the hammerhead. The next was decked in the face as she pushed the hammer straight out away from her. She spun it back behind her being careful not to strike her friends and brought it up and then down powerfully exploding the head of the next infected. Those that had come from her right lay dying but now one was on her left. She knocked him aside snapping ribs like twigs before pulling the hammer back and smashing it against the head of one on her right.

"We're reloaded," Malana called, "Get behind the line."

Suddenly Jessica saw something hurtling toward her. It seemed to wrap around her ankle and pulled her from her feet climbing its way up her body and constricting her. She'd heard about this kind of infected before. She was being pulled toward the door and the infected were hitting her as she was pulled. She swung at them with her hammer but had trouble keeping them off.

"No!" Kael shouted leaping to his feet.

"Don't be a hero kid," Brutus said, "We go together."

The six of them rushed forward with melee weapons in hand. Malana bashed the brains of an infected with her crowbar while Brutus's entrenchment tool penetrated the chest cavity of another. Private Jordan and Private Wilhelm both buried axe blades in their enemies as they cut through the oncoming horde. Kael swung his baseball bat with fury in his heart. Like a knight try to rescue a fair maiden he wanted to be there for Jessica.

"Smoker!" Charlie shouted once the mutated infected was in sight.

Jessica was nearly to the creature now. Kael rushed forward with his heart pumping overtime and adrenaline coursing through him. He knocked aside one infected and dived for Jessica. She grabbed his hand as she slid along the floor but the grip of the smoker was strong and Kael's palms were sweaty. Suddenly, just as she was about to slip from his grasp, the Smoker erupted into a puff of smoke and its tongue went limp. Kael pulled Jessica to her feet and looked over to wear Brutus stood with his Spas-15 outstretched.

"Boom! Headshot!" Brutus said grinning with pride at his own heroics.

"You alright?" Kael asked Jessica.

"She should have stayed behind the line," Charlie growled.

"That Smoker could have pulled any one of us Charlie," Jessica protested.

"You guys hear that?" Private Jordan asked and everyone's ears perked up, "Sounds like its coming from the radio in the safe house. It could be the missing team."

"We're in need of ammunition," a voice on the radio said as the group scrambled back into the vault, "Emergency, Mayday, is anyone out there? We're holed up near a barn north of the City, near Confederate Avenue... infected are everywhere! If anyone can hear this get here quick! We're not dead!"

"Damn it!" Charlie exclaimed, "The transmitter is dead on this radio."

"We need to get to them," Malana said putting a reassuring hand on the man's shoulder, "Let's get to the van."

Doctor Allan Wright had never seen anything like it. The virus that caused infection spread like wildfire. Sometimes it was airborne, other times it was spread by bites, and yet it could also be spread sexually. It was a disease unlike any other. It evolved faster than any organism on the planet not just on the species level but Doc had witnessed individual viruses metamorphose under the microscope. The virus sample he'd taken from an ordinary infected earlier that day was almost entirely distinct from the sample taken from the blood of Sergeant Cameron. It had changed as to be almost entirely unrecognizable. It was a baffling and troubling prospect. Even if a viable vaccine could be created for the original infection these mutations would be difficult to cure.

Doc pulled his tired eyes away from the microscope. It was mid-afternoon now and the others were still not back. He knew he shouldn't worry because he knew those three could take care of themselves out there but he had grown attached in the time they'd spent together. Attachment like that was difficult to deal with in the post-apocalyptic world. So many were dead and dying and still others were infected with this infernal disease. He slammed his fist down in anger on the table but soon let out the tension in a deep sigh.

"Still no progress," Owen said entering the room with a tray of food, "I figured I'd bring you some brain food."

"The mutated version of the virus that has infected your Sergeant is quite strange," Doc said, "But the normal virus I might be able to work with... if we can stop it from mutating long enough to work on a cure. I'll need test subjects... rats perhaps."

"What about people?" Owen suggested, "We could always get blood samples from the people in this hotel... Besides, I don't think animals are even susceptible."

"All the more reason we should try to test it on animals," Doc argued, "If they are immune they could teach us a great deal. We'll do both, that is if you convince everyone blood samples are in their best interests."

"Won't be easy," the Medic admitted, "But it will be worth it if it gets us closer to a cure."

Malana could see a steady stream of infected rushing toward the beleaguered team. She fired up the mini-gun that had been specially mounted into the back of the armored van and opened fire. Hundreds of rounds poured from the barrel as it spun. Bullets tore into infected flesh scattering bits everywhere, leaving some zombies headless while others were missing their legs or entire torso. She mowed down the approaching horde with blood catching the dying rays of the setting sun. The van pulled heroically toward the group continuing to dent the army of the undead that descended toward the others. The supply team had been fortunate as a small waist high wooden fence across the side of the roadway had acted to slow down the infected. They had also used their APC, apparently out of fuel, as cover for any infected that made it beyond the initial wave of gunfire.

Malana felt a surge of pride as they pulled up the road toward the group. She loved being there for others and successfully saving the team would be very emotionally rewarding. Knowing that they would live another day and see family and friends was a silver lining in this whole apocalyptic nightmare they were a part of. A sudden sound shook her from her happiness though and she pivoted the turret toward what sounded like a loud roar. She felt the bottom drop out of her heart when she saw the source of the roar, the stampeding Tank barreling straight towards them. The grotesque monster still bore scars from their encounter at the gas station but despite being wounded it seemed just as formidable as before.

"TANK!" She screamed, "It's going to catch up to us."

Just as she yelled that a chunk of concrete struck the van toppling it over. She slid out of the turret mount scraping her skin along the pavement. She got to her feet quickly and ran to the van helping the others get out safely as the Tank continued its thunderous charge toward them.

"Grenade out!" Charlie yelled pulling the pin on a fragmentation grenade and cooking it for a second before tossing it toward the towering Tank. It exploded a dozen feet from the beast and only a few shreds of shrapnel found their way toward the Tank cutting skin but doing little damage to the behemoth. To make matters worse the horde was still incoming and they were separated from the survivors of the supply team by more than a hundred feet of distance.

"Out into the field," Malana suggested suddenly, "It'll be harder for him to get us out in the open field."

The others grabbed their weapons and darted out into the open grass toward the barn the supply team had mentioned. The Tank stopped to lift a chunk of Earth only to find his aim horribly off due to the open spaces the group now had at their disposal. While moving backwards away from the Tank all seven of them began to open fire. Even Jessica was wise enough to draw her MP9 and begin firing. Bullets pelted the massive mutant as it barreled toward them. Bullets came in from both sides now as the supply team also opened fire with what little ammo they had left. The Tank was fast though and it managed to serpentine between lines of fire keeping itself relatively clear and gaining ground.

"Chris!" Charlie screamed to his fellow soldier, "He's almost on you."

"He's too fast," Private Jordan shouted, "he's too fucking fast."

The Tank stretched out his fist and bashed the Private into the ground crushing bones and shattering his spine instantly. Charlie Wilhelm felt rage well up within him. He'd seen people killed in action before and he knew it was a good idea to keep his head in such situations. He lifted his rifle and released his rage the way a soldier was meant to, by firing every last bullet at his enemy. The Tank tried to avoid the bullets but it was constantly being bombarded. Charlie was good at hitting human size targets and the Tank had the disadvantage of being four times the size of a man. Every bullet from his M16 hit home. Riddled with holes the Tank tried to lift one last boulder to crush its enemies but it was too late. Down it fell with a resounding thud against the grassy ground letting out one last guttural growl that echoed in the November air.

"We brought that Mother down!" Brutus cheered as they rushed toward the supply team, "You see that?"

"We were helping," one of the men said, "But thanks for the assistance."

"We better get inside," Malana said, "The sun is setting and with all the gunfire and the sound of the Tank that wasn't the last we've seen of the Horde."

"The barn?" Jessica asked.

"She's right, they're already on the way," one of the soldiers said looking through a pair of binoculars.

"Barn," Wilhelm agreed.

The group rushed to the old barn and hoped it would be sturdy enough to keep the infected out. Luckily they managed to get inside before the horde had even reached the road and had quickly grown quiet. They sat in the barn silently with the first beams of the newly risen moon gleaming through cracks in the wall. It had been a long day for all of them. Many of the missing team had been awake for more than thirty hours and much of that had been spent holding their own against the horde. With few other options most curled up and went to sleep leaving the seven who had rode out to rescue them to decide who was on watch.

"I'll take watch," Jessica and Malana said at the same time.

"Well then, now that that's settled," Brutus yawned quietly, "Goodnight."

"Be safe you two," Kael said although he was looking directly into Jessica's steel blue eyes as he said it. He lay down using his jacket as a pillow and tried to sleep... those steel-blue eyes would join him in his dreams.


	5. Chapter 5: The Curse

Chapter Five - The Curse

Doctor Allan Wright sat despondently at his desk. His microscope sat beside him with a blood sample beneath it. He'd just finished determining whether one of the small children living there was immune. Erica Jacobs, barely seven years old, was not immune to the infection that had turned the majority of human beings into raving mad men bent on violence. For a man who'd spent much of his life delivering bad news to patients he could hardly stand the frustration and sadness that filled him when he'd realized it. Despite being sheltered from the zombie apocalypse that lie just beyond the Hotel walls Doc felt it was only a matter of time before Erica Jacobs became one of them as well.

The only silver lining was that the majority staying in the hotel were, in fact immune, including every last one of the soldiers. In fact the soldier's blood had shown signs of very strong levels of anti-bodies that seemed specifically prepared to defeat the infection. Doc had a few hypotheses floating around in his head about how that could but he kept them to himself as army medic Owen Grey entered the room holding a crate.

"Are those the test subjects?" Doc asked, eager to get to work synthesizing a vaccine that would make those susceptible to the infection immune.

"Seven rats and a squirrel," Owen nodded, "I spent all day searching for these. The city is almost deserted of animals entirely and most of the ones I did see were dead."

"What about my friends, see any sign of them?" Doc asked. He was worried about his three companions who still hadn't returned from the rescue mission they embarked on the day before.

"Unfortunately no," Owen sighed, "We've received no word from them either. It isn't like Private Wilhelm to not report back."

"Try not to worry," Doc advised, speaking as much to himself as to the medic, "I'm sure they're fine."

"So, am I immune?" Owen asked noticing the blood sample beneath the microscope, "Did you check my sample?"

"Yes," Doc nodded, "Your entire team is immune, although I can't speak for those soldiers who still have yet to return. Only three people currently in this hotel are not immune... for their sake we need to work on this vaccine. We'll start by trying to isolate some anti-bodies from your blood if you don't mind."

"Anything I can do to help Doc," The medic said pulling up his sleeve.

Malana glanced over her shoulder at the group and then looked beside her to where Private Charlie Wilhelm stood. The Private glanced back at her doing his best to conjure up a reassuring smile. Malana saw through the smile for what it was, a gesture meant to offer her some small comfort and nothing more. She could see the truth behind his eyes. He, like her, was scared. She turned her sharp eyes back to the road ahead catching sight of something moving in the street. She watched as several common infected stumbled out dressed in old civil war uniforms onto the road engaged in a fist fight. She set aside any questions she had about why the infected were fighting each other and lifted her silenced M4. She glared through the scope making sure she had a good bead on the huddled mass of fighting infected before squeezing the trigger. They fell to the cool pavement below one by one.

"Nice shot Mal," Brutus said coming up beside them.

"Keep your voice down," Malana whispered, "We don't want to advertise our presence."

"You don't think those were actual civil war soldiers come back to life do you?" Brutus asked.

"I don't think they are those kind of zombies Brutus," Kael replied quietly, "Probably just reenactment actors."

"Yeah," Brutus agreed, "You're probably right. How you holding up kid?"

"Okay I suppose," Kael said glancing over his shoulder at Jessica, "There is something bothering me."

"I see," Brutus chuckled looking back to Jessica who walked along beside several of the soldiers they'd met up with at the barn, "She is a fine piece of ass."

"Don't talk about her that way," Kael said trying to keep his voice down and not wanting to make an enemy of the towering titan that was James Brutus.

"Zombie apocalypse ain't exactly a good time to be looking for love," Brutus said.

"I wouldn't know how to talk to her anyway," Kael said, "I mean I've never been very good at expressing my feelings."

"Few men are," Brutus said, "That's why we feel the need to brutally beat the shit out of others."

"Um... yeah, okay, that doesn't help me," Kael replied with a confused expression on his face.

"Look kid, just grow a pair and talk to her. I mean for a guy who had the balls to kill his own fucking sister you sure are acting like a pussy."

"Great, that's just what I need, unnecessary guilt about the one memory that truly haunts me," Kael said shaking his head, "Remind me never to get my advice from you again."

Kael shook the negative thoughts from his head and notified Malana that he would be covering their six o'clock position. He tried to stay focused on any infected or motion of any kind around them as he fell back a few strides behind the group but his eyes were drawn inexorably to Jessica. He knew the truth, the subconscious reason he'd come back here and it resurrected Brutus's crude description of Jessica as a piece of ass. It was a nice ass; Kael had to admit, though he tried to interlace those thoughts about her body with images of romantic dinners and intelligent discussions. He wanted her as far more than a mere potential sexual partner. He stepped up to her gulping nervously as the courage he'd mustered all but fled from him.

"Aren't you supposed to be guarding our asses?" She said breaking the silence that his nervousness had created, "You're Kael right?"

"Yeah," Kael admitted stammering nervously, "I thought maybe we could talk."

"About what?" Jessica asked quietly.

"Stuff," Kael said awkwardly, "Where are you from?"

"Bethlehem, or at least that's where I was born," she replied checking behind them to make sure it was at least somewhat safe for them to be talking.

"Were you also born in a manger?" Kael asked managing to summon a smile.

"Very funny," she said sarcastically, "Bethlehem, PA. I'm no savior, although I have been told that wise men from the East did come to visit me at my birthplace, although those were my three Uncles from Pittsburgh. That was some eighteen years and three months ago, so details are sketchy."

"Do you have any family at the hotel?" Kael asked but the sadness that grew in her steel blue eyes gave him all the answer he needed.

"No, I'm alone" she replied, "My Mom is dead, she died when I was nine, tumor in her heart. My Dad lives back in Bethlehem, or lived I should say."

"He's dead?" Kael asked sadly.

"He was a doctor," Jessica answered, "He was trying to figure out the whole green flu thing. The last I talked to him was about three weeks ago, he said he was sick with what everyone else was. I never heard from him again."

"So you were stuck in Gettysburg alone with no family?" Kael asked, "That sucks, what about friends, what about a boyfriend?"

"I didn't have a boyfriend," she replied, "I didn't want one. I always put my studies first, thought I'd have time for relationships later... little did I know. As for friends, yeah I had some but they all became infected one by one. Immunity is a curse. Immunity is just being sentenced to watch everyone you love and care about turn into a fucking monster. I watched my best friends try to rip people's eyes out. I had to shoot one of my college professors, a man I admired a great deal... The whole thing is just fucked up beyond belief but we who survived are the ones who have to deal with that."

"Yeah," Kael agreed, "It does seem like a curse sometimes. I don't want it to seem hopeless but it just IS hopeless. And we don't even know if we're immune for sure, we could still turn."

"Exactly," Jessica agreed, "Which makes it harder to survive because it breeds distrust and makes us reluctant to form bonds with people. If anything we need each other more now than ever."

"Absolutely," Kael replied with a smile, "Well, I better get to the back of the group where I'm supposed to be. It was nice talking to you."

"Sure Kael," Jessica smiled, "Make you sure you watch my ass."

Kael couldn't stand such a comment flying from the lips of such a beautiful girl. He knew she was doing it deliberately but he wasn't exactly a social butterfly and so he wasn't really sure how to react to such flirtatious comments. He stepped to the back of the group deciding to put thoughts of Jessica aside and concentrate on keeping the group safe. He stared down every alley and his eyes checked both the street and the rooftops for any signs of the infected. Of particular concern were the special infected each of with seemed to have unnatural aspects that made them adept at attacking survivors. Kael still remembered being pulled into the car by the Smoker, a zombie that had mutated to have a long muscular tongue that could be catapulted great distances and which was capable of snaring someone and constricting them.

They'd already been walked more than a mile from the barn judging by spray painted markers that Wilhelm and his fellow soldiers had put all over the city marking directions and distances to safe houses they'd set up. Part of Malana wanted to get the group to one of these safe houses, preferably one with a working radio, but another part of her told her to make haste for the hotel as quickly as possible. Thus far she'd been listening to the latter part. The hotel had food and warmth and rest for the weary supply team they'd joined up with the day before. They needed to make the journey as quickly as possible and so Malana was reluctant when she had to call the group to a halt.

The road ahead was blocked by an overturned truck but beside it sat a towering monument to the human civilization that was, a Burger Tank. Burger Tank was one of the biggest fast food restaurant chains before the infection hit. Everyone in the group seemed to be thinking the same thing and gravitated toward the restaurant.

"I wonder if there is any food in there," Brutus said.

"I highly doubt it," Malana responded beginning to lead the group around the Burger Tank building toward the parking lot.

"What I wouldn't give for a burger," Jessica moaned with her pale palms against the window panes, peering inside, "I know it's not good for you but I used to eat their all the time. I think we should at least check it out."

"Yeah Lana," Kael argued, "With all the preservatives in the food who knows, maybe something has survived, some frozen patties perhaps.

"Can we Malana?" Jessica asked, "I don't see any infected in there."

"Alright," Malana conceded, "But you two are responsible for carrying whatever you get out of there all the way back to the hotel.'

"Deal," Jessica replied licking her lips.

Kael opened the door and entered leading with the Colt Python and with nervous sweat raining from his brow. Jessica, on the other hand, seemed calm and cool as she strutted into the Burger Tank with her sledgehammer slung over her shoulder. The two of them made their way into the kitchen but aside from some stale and rotten food in varying stages of preparation and decay there was nothing to be found. They next checked for French fry oil hoping to at least find some fuel that could be used for diesel engine vehicles but found the fryer empty. Jessica turned her attention toward the freezer and placed her palm against her rumbling stomach.

She froze in place when she heard what sounded like something scratching at the metallic freezer door. She signaled to Kael who also heard the sounds and moved into position while she removed her MP9 from its holster. Kael grabbed the handle and opened the door only to see a look of horror develop on Jessica's beautiful face. Kael could barely see the creature from his position behind the door. It was massive, bulbous and quite clearly an infected. He watched in horror as a steady stream of vomit left the zombie's gullet and covered Jessica from head to toe in bile.

Jessica screamed trying not to panic as the sound of infected shrieking resounded in her ears. The gargantuan zombie that had covered her in vomit tried to stumble forward but Kael closed the freezer door on him and turned his attention to Jessica. The sound of crashing glass distracted him as he watched infected pour into the Burger Tank from every possible entrance including the panes of glass that made up the upper portion of the outer walls.

Kael yelled for Jessica to collapse into a corner and hand over her MP9. Kael grabbed the gun and flipped the selective fire switch to turn it full-auto. He squeezed the trigger as the horde attempted to enter the kitchen. He popped the first zombie in the head and the next one's torso was riddled with holes. He held in the trigger and brought down corpse after corpse drenching the floor in zombie blood as more and more entered. The gun ran out of ammunition then and Kael brought out his baseball bat. The first zombie stepped up to the plate only to have fragments of its skull homerun-ed across the restaurant. Kael shoved them back turning the bat horizontally to keep them at bay while Jessica reloaded her MP9 and handed it up to him. She was now shielded by a spray of bullets and soon the sound of gunshots from outside the Burger Tank told them that the others had taken some of the heat off of them as well. Soon enough silence filled the air once more and with no infected in sight Kael helped Jessica to her feet.

"You alright?" He asked grabbing some nearby napkins to help wipe her off.

"Physically yeah," she answered, "But I smell so nasty, this stuff is so gross."

"It seemed to throw them into a frenzy," Kael said.

"I couldn't see what was going on for a while, that stuff stings the eyes," she said stepping out of the restaurant into the fresh air, "Thank you for protecting me."

"You happy you two?" Brutus asked, "You nearly got yourselves killed."

"Brutus, you were wondering if there was food in there too," Kael scolded.

"Well, was there?" Brutus asked.

"I trust you two are alright?" Malana asked examining both of them to make sure they were uninjured.

"Fat zombie in there barfed on her," Kael explained, "Weirdest thing I've ever seen."

"I've seen those before," Private Wilhelm said, "We called them Boomers because they tend to explode when you shoot them. That stuff they spit attracts the infected and seems to be pressurized inside them, which is why they blow up."

"Enough with the science lesson," Brutus complained, "If there ain't food here I say we make our way to the Hotel as quick as we can."

"I hate to let Brutus's appetite lead," Malana said anxiously, "But he has a point. Let's get moving."

"How about, when we get back to the Hotel, you and me have something to eat together?" Kael asked Jessica nervously, "Maybe even a burger."

"Sure," Jessica agreed with a slight grin, "But this time you're standing in front of the freezer."

Doc shut the door on the last rat cage and slumped into his seat. He'd managed to isolate the anti-bodies that allowed for immunity and use them, along with some dead viral cells to create a makeshift vaccine that he hoped would work. He'd been at it for several hours and it was now afternoon. His thoughts drifted inexorably toward his still absent friends who had set out early the day before in order to track down a missing team searching for supplies.

He sighed audibly. The weight of the world felt as though it was on his shoulders. He'd done similar tests to the one he was running a few weeks earlier while still working for CEDA. They'd failed then ending up killing the mice they had tested the vaccine on. CEDA hadn't cared that it was a failure on the animals, they demanded human tests immediately, first on subjects already infected but when those failed to be turned back they demanded testing be done on healthy human beings. Luckily those tests never had a chance to take place as his co-workers became infected before any innocent was ever harmed. Doc felt truly terrible about the lengths that CEDA was going to. He turned back to the rats and watched them scurry about their cages. One of them was acting very strangely, its body began to twitch and it began to jump within its cage. Doc watched the pitiful creature suffering, twitching, until it lay dead. He felt frustrated tears welling up in his eyes but he did his best to hold them back. He could not allow hope to be another victim of the infection.

Malana felt a wave of relief with each step she took down the street. She knew they were nearing the Hotel now after several hours of hiking. Others in the group recognized this too and spirits were high as they made their way down the city street.

All in all Gettysburg hadn't suffered too much damage. Windows were shattered and glass littered the pavement and cars were scattered across the streets haphazardly clear signs of an evacuation attempt. Private Wilhelm explained that when the population of the city realized the government and CEDA had left them for dead they attempted to escape en masse. Most ran into the infected on their way out. The streets had been clogged with zombies rushing to and fro like blood pumping through veins. With the city all but abandoned save a few Survivors some of the infected had spread out beyond but there were still a great deal in the area. This was confirmed as they made the last turn onto Baltimore Street, the same street that the Hotel was located along. The street was filled with infected stumbling around aimlessly. Some banged on nearby doors and shop windows, others seemed more interested in combating each other and still others sat on the pavement basking beneath the Autumn sun.

Malana direct everyone to find some high ground and soon enough everyone was perched atop a vehicle of their choice. Malana climbed atop a nearby van and lay down placing the tripod of her M4 and taking aim at the nearest infected's skull. She fired off a few rounds and had taken aim at the next zombie before the first had even collapsed to the asphalt. She removed life from another, then another and another and another. By now they had begun to catch on to the presence of an aggressor and they turned toward the source of the bullets.

A haunting shriek went up in the streets that didn't come from any of the common infected that stood there. Malana could see the source, a shadow moved across the rooftops on the right side of the street leaping from them and seeming to glide flawlessly. She stood and lifted her rifle as it leapt from its perch and glided down on wings of sickly flesh reaching its talons forward to grab her. She fired off a few rounds but it had hit her rifle's barrel to the side and the bullets flew harmlessly into the air as two razor talons gripped at her shoulders. Just as she was lifted from her feet a resounding thud sounded and she felt her feet touch the van again. Another thud, now identified as a shotgun blast from Brutus's Spas-15, brought the infected down into a crumpled heap of flesh.

"Another flying one," Malana said kicking the corpse off of the van.

"Gliders," Brutus said reloading his shotgun, "We should call them Gliders."

"Eh, I don't like it," one of the Privates said, "I was thinking more like Talon, or Shrieker or something."

"Guys," Malana said having to yell above the sound of howls emanating from incoming infected, "You can argue about this later, when there isn't a horde coming in!"

Brutus shrugged his shoulders at the soldier and lay down atop the SUV he'd picked as a perch. They had the high ground advantage over the infected however they were also scattered across the street from each other and the cars they were on were not perfectly aligned or parked. This meant that sometimes fellow Survivors were in the line of fire and friendly fire was a hazard all of them had to be mindful of. Still they'd handled hordes before and as the sickly infected rushed in a steady stream of bullets cut them down. Kael decided to stay with Jessica towards the back of the group hoping to take any stragglers down with his baseball bat. It didn't take long for the massive horde to produce a straggler who attempted to scramble up onto Brutus's SUV from behind.

"Ladies first," Kael said offering Jessica dibs but she seemed distant and offered only a weak smile as she lifted her sledgehammer.

Despite her hesitance she quickly stepped in to prevent Brutus from having to react to the infected. She crunched the sledgehammer against the infected's back likely damaging spine and lungs in the process. She swept its legs out from under it and then lifted the sledgehammer over her head bringing it down to crush the zombie's skull with incredible force.

Soon enough the streets were empty of infected and the sound of gunfire that had echoed from abandoned building to abandoned building faded. The group made their way to the Inn as quick as they could and were met by warm smiles and a great deal of hugs. The three civilians who had been in the supply team returned to their families after several days of separation. Malana felt pride welling in her heart with the knowledge that she had helped fix fractured families and return Father's to their children alive. Of the supply team only one had met his end, a soldier by the name of Private Torrez. The soldiers and civilians alike shared a moment of silence in memory of the fallen soldier who had fought side by side but fallen to the horde during the first wave of the attack several hours before the arrival of Malana and the others.

"There you are," Doc said racing toward his friends and embracing them, "I was hoping you were okay. You are okay aren't you?"

"Other than being bruised, tired, dirty and hungry we're just fine," Brutus said, "Now if you'll excuse me I have a date with dinner."

"Wash your hands before you eat," Doc advised as Brutus bum- rushed the kitchen.

"I'm glad to see you in one piece," Doc said hugging Malana.

"How's the cure stuff going?" Malana asked, "And yes I figured out that's what you'd be working on."

"Not good," Doc whispered, "Most of the test rats are dead already... I don't know what I'm doing wrong."

"It's okay Doc, we'll crack it," Malana promised.

Kael shook hands with the Doc and nodded politely to what the man was saying to him but in truth his eyes were looking for Jessica. Almost as soon as they'd entered the Inn she seemed to have left. He had been looking forward to getting something to eat with her. He'd thought of it almost like a date or as close to a date as one could come during a zombie apocalypse. He sighed sadly and moved toward a nearby bathroom hoping to get some of the grime and gunk off of him and hoping that Jessica emerged soon enough and kept their dinner arrangement.

He emerged a dozen or so minutes later clean as a whistle. His eyes searched for Jessica but once again she was nowhere to be found. He asked around and none of those that called the Hotel home had sighted her since she arrived with them earlier. Private Wilhelm did, however, give Kael her room number and despite having a nervous twitter in his stomach Kael worked up enough courage to knock. Silence was the only answer he received. He knocked again this time his knuckles rapped against the wood a bit more insistently. Again silence became his companion in the hallway. He knocked again and thought, for a moment, to check to see if the door was locked.

"Go away please," Jessica's voice called from within the room.

"But I thought we could get something to eat," Kael said, "I thought we might set up a table with some candles or something. Look, Jessica, I really like you and I was hoping you liked me too."

"I do like you," Jessica said with a tinge of sadness in her tone, "I just want you to go away right now!"

Kael sighed with disappointment and stood awkwardly in the hall way for a moment running through his options. A sound entered his ears then, the faintest of sounds emanating from Jessica's room muffled by the door before him. It was the sound of weeping, soft crying.

"What's the matter?" Kael found himself asking aloud before he could take back the words.

"I don't want you to know," Jessica said, "But if you want you can come in."

Kael walked into the room. She was seated on the edge of her bed looking down at the floor dressed in a red turtle neck. Kael sat beside her on the bed and put his arm around her trying to sooth her. She didn't seem at all angered or upset by his presence despite her insistence that he go away before.

"Why are you crying?" Kael asked, "Is it about your family, your friends, the whole world? I understand."

"No," Jessica cried, "No you don't. I'm," she seemed unable to complete the thought for a moment. Kael turned her toward him and stared into her steel-blue eyes now bloodshot and raining tears, "I'm becoming one of them."

"What do you mean?" Kael asked.

"I'm infected," she cried, "I'm not immune."

"What? How do you know? Do you feel sick?"

"Look," she said pulling down the neck of her turtle neck sweater to reveal sickly pale-green skin. She pulled up her sleeves as well revealing patches of flaky flesh that had begun to appear and seemed to fall off with the slightest disturbance. Her nails, as well, had changed color and begun to grow strangely long, "I'm becoming one of them and the worst part of it is I never got to live my life. I never got to do any of the things I wanted to do, I never got to have a career or a degree or see the world. I've never even had sex. Look at me. In a few hours I might be one of those monsters and you might be forced to end me."

"Come on," Kael said with tears welling in his eyes, "This isn't over yet, you can't give up."

"Where are we going?" She asked as he led her out into the hall.

"We're going to see the doctor."


	6. Chapter 6: Storming

Chapter Six: Storming

Kael watched as Doctor Allan Wright bent down to the huddled creature before him. In the needle slid through the creature's skin and out came the blood. The infected, once a prominent Sergeant in the United States military, rose to his feet in a fit of rage and charged to the end of his chains. With demonic shrieks and howls the mutant pulled against the restraints trying desperately to be free and unleash hell upon those beings that had captured him. Kael stood back with eyes wide at the furious fiend before looking toward Doc who was holding a syringe of the Sergeant's blood.

"Do you really think this will help her?" Kael asked following Doc down the dank tunnels beneath the Inn.

"I've analyzed the effects beneath a microscope," Doc explained, "When I added the Sergeant's blood to the sample we took from Jessica the viruses attacked each other and eventually both were killed. This might be our only chance of bringing her back."

"And if this works," Owen Gray interjected, "The entire world may have a shot at salvation."

Kael tentatively ambled into the room where Jessica was being kept. He could hardly bear to look at her in her present state. She'd lost consciousness the night before and when she'd awakened there was little, if anything, of her mind left. Even now she struggled to free herself of her restraints and gnashed her teeth towards Doc as he approached her. Sickly green flesh had replaced the warm peach tone and healthy glow she'd once maintained. Despite this she had somehow retained those alluring steel-blue eyes though now they served as a source of revulsion and sadness for Kael. Even Owen was more than a little unnerved by the whole situation. He'd met Jessica before and knew she had done nothing to deserve such a fate.

Doc stepped up to the bedside and quickly injected Jessica with the blood from Sergeant Cameron. He stepped back watching. She seemed instantly dazed but soon enough she began writhing again, shaking and convulsing and hissing. Owen rushed in with a syringe full of sedative desperately trying to calm her down. Soon enough, despite every effort of the infection to fight fatigue, she fell asleep. Inducing sleep in a zombie was no easy task, they had learned early that morning. The infection reengineered their bodies to need almost no food or fuel of any kind and to forgo sleep in favor of constant alertness. It took quite a bit of tranquilizer to put her out, nearly three times the dose recommended, enough to kill a full grown man in a matter of seconds.

Kael walked over to her bedside with a sullen expression. He couldn't stand to see anyone like this, especially one so beautiful. To think that almost all beauty in the world had been snuffed out by this plague. There was no joy remaining. With hope all but dead within his heart he returned to his room and slumped down on the bed. In his frustration and anguish he'd neglected to sleep and despite the glaring afternoon sun burning brightly beyond his window sleep came to collect him.

Brutus stared out over the city from the roof of the Hotel. The sun was setting spectacularly and even the cynical Brutus could not deny its beauty. Human civilization might have grinded to a sudden halt but the world still spun and the sun still shone. He lifted his binoculars and scanned the rooftops searching for any signs of infected. He'd seen several earlier in the afternoon towards the start of his shift and he'd made short work of them. He left out a heavy sigh and took a few glances around to make sure he was alone before pulling out a flask of booze from within his jacket.

"You shouldn't be drinking on the job James," Malana said using his first name to get on his nerves as she entered with Private Wilhelm and Corporal Ryan just behind.

"I'm not exactly getting paid," Brutus rebutted, "Besides, do you have any idea how ball-numbingly boring this job is?"

"Boring but crucial," Corporal Ryan pointed out.

"So what do you think Brutus?" Malana asked, "How much longer should we stay in Gettysburg?"

"I worry for the kid Mal," Brutus admitted taking another swig from his flask, "He's gonna be in bad head space if we don't pull out of here soon."

"But what if the Doc can save Jessica?" Private Wilhelm asked but the looks of the others cut down his optimistic attitude. Even the oft optimistic Malana looked unsure that Doc had a snowball's chance in hell of actually creating a cure.

"We've heard rumors," Corporal Ryan said after a long period of silence, "They're supposed to be a stronghold down in Virginia."

"Stronghold? Military, government, civilian?" Brutus asked offering the man a drink.

"Government supposedly put tunnels in under Washington DC," the Corporal answered taking a sip from the flask before passing it to Malana, "They lead to a place called Haven, supposed to be some underground city for VIPs and shit."

"We could all head there," Malana said offering some to Private Wilhelm who waved the flask away, "If we can get enough fuel."

"Maybe," Corporal Ryan said looking towards dark clouds forming in the sky, "Maybe. Storm's coming. We'll get you a raincoat."

"Thanks," Brutus said realizing his flask was now empty, "But what I could really use is some more to drink."

"What the hell is that?" Private Wilhelm asked pointing towards a distant roof.

"What?" Brutus asked lifting his binoculars, "Shit, he's right."

They watched from a distance as the strange infected crawled quickly from rooftop to rooftop. Its method of motion seemed wholly unnatural to them. Only Brutus could see it in all its true horror. Sickly spider like legs that seemed almost sharpened into sickles stretched out in front of it. It leapt from roof to roof and scurried up and down walls like an insect. Brutus lifted the M39 but the speed-demon infected was too quick for him to get a good shot on it. He squeezed off a round anyway hoping to frighten the beast. It appeared effective as the creature crawled out of sight and wasn't eager to reemerge.

"Looks like it'll be an interesting night after all," Malana said patting him on the shoulder, "Good luck."

Kael sat beside what was left of Jessica and struggled with the feelings within him. Part of him wanted to let her go, to let her die, to end her life and put her out of her misery. Each time she opened her eyes, each time those steel-blue beauties locked inside that sickly skull looked at him, he felt as if part of her was still alive. She seemed calmer whenever he was around as if she still clung to some small measure of memory from her life amongst the living. He felt so torn by the entire ordeal. He hated himself for being so connected to her. They'd only known each other for two days, after all, hardly long enough to fall in love or even build a connection.

He let out a helpless sigh. In truth he could do nothing to save her, although Doc had borrowed some of his antibodies in an early attempt to help Jessica fight off the virus. It'd been too late and now he was relegated to watching a woman he cared about turn into a ravenous monster that cared about nothing.

Kael looked up. She'd been sedated and had been sleeping since the injection earlier. Now she stirred. Kael thought for a moment that she recognized him when her eyes opened but soon her lips spread apart and she hissed in his direction. He leapt up away from her as she began to scream and writhe. He'd seen her get violent before but this was something different. She seemed wracked with pain. She squirmed in agony and howled deafeningly. Kael called out as loud he could for Doc to enter the room.

Soon enough Doc and Owen rushed down the stairs and tried to prepare a shot of tranquilizer to put her under once more. Kael's eyes went wide with horror when he saw what was happening to her. Her neck twisted and snapped sickeningly extending to grow longer right before his eyes. Her teeth which had once been pearly white now were sharp gray spikes set within her jaws. She let out a horrible high-pitched squeal as her belly became bulbous and distended and her jaw seemed torn apart by the unnatural elongation of her spine. Blood rushed from her mouth like a fountain of gore as her jaw snapped. Her arms and legs too seemed to grow longer until spindly and grotesque. She struggled with the restraints on the gurney desperately trying to get free as all in the room watched with mute terror.

Doc snapped from his stationary status and jabbed her with tranquilizer but she continued her horrid screaming. Another jab, this time from the Medic, managed to put her under. The three of them stepped back unable to speak about the gravity and horror of what had just transpired before them. Kael was deep in shock. He collapsed into his seat and just stared out into space. Doc thought to tend to the boy and try to salvage his psyche but no words entered his mind that could have offered Kael any hope. Doc felt a surge of helpless frustration swell within him as he looked upon the mutated monster who had only a day ago been a beautiful young woman. Sickened and saddened he sat at his desk.

Kael sprung to life a moment later grabbing a nearby medical beaker and tossing it at the wall in a fit of rage. He looked to Jessica, her steel blue eyes now sickly white with beady pupils. He felt tears welling within his own eyes as he dashed from the basement stopping only to grab his baseball bat. Out into the night he ran, out into the rain. Darkness swirled around him, darkness like that which dwelled within his mind, as sprinted down the street. He wanted to run away from the Hell the world had become. Part of him wanted to die and part of him wanted to take as many infected as he could with him. Not because he hated them but because he pitied them, he saw them for what they were. Human. Human beings locked in living death. He took his bat and swatted at the first few that came his way. With flashes of lightning illuminating his path he dashed down the road. He could hear voices calling after him but he didn't care, he was consumed in sadness and rage. Then, suddenly, he stopped. He wasn't sure why he'd stopped but the answer soon became clear as the next flash of lightning revealed the strange web-like strands that spanned the distance from one side of the street to the next.

He struggled to break free but it was a futile endeavor unsure of what manner of trap this was. Another lightning flash clued him in as the infected manufacturer of the trap revealed himself. Crawling onto the web with six spider-like legs the strange infected neared its prey. Something happened then, there was a loud crack that seemed to accompany a clap of thunder and Kael's arm was free. Another crack came and with it another flash of thunder. Kael realized that each flash of lightning was illuminating the web allowing a shooter atop the roof of the Inn to free on of his limbs. The infected, however, was nearly upon him and with lightning flashes few and far between Kael wondered if he would be freed in time.

Owen Gray felt like a failure. Doc had rushed towards the roof hoping to inform Brutus of Kael's actions and left him alone with his thoughts. He examined Jessica fairly sure that there was nothing they could do for her now. Despite their best efforts it seemed the infection had survived. In fact it seemed as if one side of the infection had one over another rather than the duel annihilation they'd been looking for. Not only was their little hope for Jessica and the Sergeant but their failure didn't bode well for the rest of the world either.

Suddenly Jessica began to stir. Owen shook his head in disbelief as her eyes opened and closed and she awakened. She'd had two syringes full of tranquilizer, enough to kill several men, yet she was already awakening. He reached for a nearby weapon, a surgical knife on a table and readied another dose of tranquilizer. He walked towards the table. She hissed and heaved and tried to break free. Finally she took in a deep breath. Owen watched as green bile erupted from her mouth. It hit him head on. His skin felt like it was on fire as the acidic spit melted through his flesh. Skin sloughed off in chunks as he writhed on the floor. He tried to get away from the puddle of spit that had collected beneath him but with his eyes all but singed from their sockets he found escape impossible. Darkness took his eyes and death soon took his life.

The sickly Spitter took in another breath and spit just enough acid to burn the shackles on the bed. She rose from the gurney and looked toward the stares but not before the sound of a fellow infected entered her ears. She turned down the tunnel scurrying toward the sound of a friend in need of her particular talents.

Kael was out of the web but the infected was right behind him as he sprinted back toward the Hotel. Malana was outside now along with Doc and a few of the soldiers. They were more preoccupied with keeping the entrance clear of common infected then with assisting him with his speedy spider pursuer. The crawler was faster than he was though and he soon found himself face down on the pavement with a sharp point against his back, the tip of one of the creature's mantis like limbs. It growled softly as it pulled back its other limb to end his life. Kael heard the sound of gunfire and the shriek of the spider. He wasted no time leaping to his feet to spin on the wounded zombie with his baseball bat. With a flash of lightning to guide him he took aim and exploded the skull of the infected. With several bullet holes in its body and a caved in head the infected collapsed to the road beneath.

Kael wasn't safe yet, he soon realized as a powerful burst of bile covered him. Now it was both dark and he was blinded by Boomer bile. The shriek of an incoming horde sent him scurrying toward Malana's insistent voice as she called to him.

Malana grabbed the kid by the collar and tossed him behind her making sure she got up her M4 before the horde came in. With only darkened shadows as targets she struggled to pick off the zombies as they came in. Luckily Corporal Ryan and his MG36 machine gun were right beside her. His eyes were sharper than hers, his fighting skills honed to the edge of human ability as he opened fire on the coming crowd. Muzzle flashes made aiming a bit easier in the shadowy street as infected scurried over cars and bum-rushed the hotel.

"You okay?" Doc asked trying to clean Kael off, "That was a dumb thing to do."

"There's no time for life lessons," Malana yelled, "Give the kid a gun."

"She would have wanted you to have this," Doc said handing him the MP9 that had belonged to Jessica, "She would have wanted us to survive."

Kael let a smile dwell on his lips for a few seconds before grabbing the gun and opening fire. Doc got out his M1A which he'd managed to find a night-vision scope for. Still aiming in the rain was no easy task and he had to pick his shots carefully as more soldiers emerged from the Hotel hoping to help. Despite still being sore from his encounter with the Witch he was determined to help defend the Hotel. The night was alive with infected pouring in from all sides even long after the Boomer bile had washed away.

Brutus watched the scene but had to remember to keep his eyes on the rooftops as well incase any special infected made an attempt on their lives. He almost leapt from his skin when he heard the door to the roof open behind him. He thought he might turn to see Private Wilhelm offering him assistance. Instead he saw the spindly limbed monster that Jessica had become. He didn't recognize her in the least but he understood she was dangerous especially when spit leapt from her throat. He shielded himself with his gun and threw his jacket to the ground trying to get away as the corrosive acid ate through the jacket, the gun and nearly ate away the roof. He pulled out his Spas-15 and took aim but the creature rushed for him now. The two stood toe to toe, the Spitter grabbing for him. He managed to over power it pushing it toward the edge of the roof before kicking it off.

Kael saw the body fall on the pavement near where he stood. A flash of thunder identified the corpse. At first he thought to go to her, to mourn her, but he realized now that she was long gone. With rage equal to that of the thunderous storm he grabbed his baseball bat and attacked the nearest infected. Doc went with him this time trying to keep him safe from both friendly fire and the infected that clamored towards them from all sides. Kael crunched the bat into the ribs of the first infected before reversing to crack open the skull of the next. Several more stepped up nearly in a straight line shoulder to shoulder, with one fell swoop, shoulder to shoulder, headless bodies fell. Doc's jaw dropped. He knew the kid was pretty good with the bat but something like what he'd just witnessed seemed to defy medical possibility.

Doc had more serious things to worry about as a leaping Hunter soared over head landing on a nearby soldier. Doc knelt with his rifle and put two rounds into the Hunter's skull hearing it yelp as its body flew from atop the pinned soldier. Another Hunter leapt in. This one was intent on disguising itself as a common infected. It rushed in and delivered a nasty scratch to one of the soldiers before Corporal Ryan put a bullet to its brain. Luckily the horde seemed to be thinning and soon enough the street seemed silent with no infected in sight.

"Looks like we made it," Private Gutierrez remarked tying off a makeshift tourniquet to stem the flow of blood.

"We made an awful lot of noise," Corporal Ryan warned, "And they're always riled up when it rains."

"We better get inside!" Malana said calling to Kael and Doc who were some distance away now.

The two of them turned back toward the Hotel and Kael turned to shake Doc's hand. Despite the Hell that the last day and a half had been this bit of zombie killing had served as a Catharsis. Even though Doc had failed Kael felt indebted to the man for trying. They ambled back toward the others. Kael stopped in his tracks for a moment forcing Doc to stop and turn toward him.

"Don't start this," Doc said, "We need to get back."

"You don't hear that?" Kael asked quietly, "Sounds almost like a rumbling..."

"We're in the middle of a thunderstorm," Doc pointed out, "Now let's get the hell out of-"

Doc's eyes went impossibly wide when he saw the massive shape careening toward them. He leapt forward toward Kael and pulled the kid from his feet to the asphalt below as the car just narrowly passed overhead and crashed in a twisted wreck just in front of them. The pounding of knuckles on the ground was unmistakable now. All watched incredulously as a Tank bashed cars out of the way on his way down the street. His unmistakable growl seemed to compliment the crashing thunder as he stormed toward them.

"It can't be," Kael said looking to Doc. Doc's expression mirrored his sentiment perfectly, "We fucking killed that thing."

"Maybe it's a different one," Doc said getting to his feet and beginning to move backward, "I'd rather not stick around to find out."

"TANK!" The call went up across the street and was carried into the Hotel, "TANK!"

Everyone within the Inn that could carry a weapon was given one and told to stay vigilant while those outside would try to defeat the titanic Tank. Doc and Kael were firing off rounds as quickly as they could but the Tank was nearest to them forcing them to split up. Kael rushed into a house across the street while Doc hid in a nearby store with the front window broken out. Luckily in the darkness the Tank's eyesight was fairly poor and the plan worked leaving the Tank frustrated that it had lost track of its prey. Its frustration only doubled when a sniper round buried into its upper body. Blood trickled from the wound in its right arm as another such bullet tore into its head. To Brutus's horror even a headshot from his M39 didn't bring the beast down. The Tank lifted a car over his head and hurled it up toward the rooftop. Brutus scurried toward the door feeling the thud when the car impacted the front of the hotel just below the roof. He rushed to the edge to see the car lodged in one of the hotel windows.

Malana and Corporal Ryan and the others opened fire now and even Doc and Kael emerged behind the Tank firing on him with their final magazines worth of ammunition. Brutus rushed down stairs into the Hotel kitchen realizing that bullets might now be enough. He managed to find several magazine of incendiary ammo and several bottles of spirits which he blended with gasoline and quickly poured them into a large bucket. He lugged his massive Molotov up to the roof and waited for the Tank to lumber beneath him. He poured it onto the Tank and lifted his M39 chambering a single incendiary round and firing it on the Tank. Suddenly immolated the angered Tank began to lash out with its massive arms forcing those below to stay out of range of the enraged behemoth. One blow broke open the front door of the Hotel another punched a hole through one of the walls and yet another left a nearby car decimated. Eventually the alcohol and gasoline burnt off but by this time so many rounds had been pumped into the Tank that it could barely stay standing. With one last growl and a failed attempt at tossing another car the Tank collapsed dead on the pavement.

"I can't believe nobody died," Private Gutierrez remarked, he took those words back however as an infected charged from the Hotel and grabbed hold of him and began pounding him into the pavement. His spine cracked and he began to lose consciousness quickly as his former Commanding Officer pummeled him to a pulp. Malana managed to kill the creature with her M4 but it was too late, the injured Private died a few moments later.

There was no time to mourn him however, the death cry of the Tank had attracted new zombies and common infected began to pour from every crevice around them once more. To make matters worse the encounter with the tank had punched several holes in the Hotel and it would take a Herculean effort to keep the infected out.

"We need to get out of here," Malana remarked to the Corporal.

"You need to get out of here," Corporal Ryan corrected, "My men and I will stay here... I need you to get the civilians out of here. We've done our best protecting them. Get them to the APC, it's just been fueled today, get out of here and get them some place that's actually safe."

"I can't just leave you," Malana said, "You can come with us!"

Malana thought for a moment they would reconsider but the sound of infected shrieking was soon accompanied by the sound of roaring and pounding knuckles as a second Tank approached the Hotel.

"Go," Corporal Ryan commanded, "Private Wilhelm will drive you, he knows how to handle the APC."

"But sir," Charlie complained, "I'd rather stay here with you."

"Goddamn it Private," Corporal Ryan yelled, "That's an order, you get your ass out of here."

"Fuck Mal, let's just go," Brutus said appearing next to them, "Just because these guys are suicidal doesn't mean we should be."

Malana disagreed with him completely but with the Tank barreling down on them there was little time for debate. She rushed into the Hotel gathering up the civilians. Some decided to stay but those with families agreed to flee. While Malana tended to the people Brutus grabbed as much ammunition and supplies as he could. They rushed toward the APC which was parked in the back of the hotel taking out infected as they went and trying to keep the civilians clear as they piled into the cramped vehicle and prepared to roll out. Private Wilhelm did his best to maneuver the bulky vehicle out of harms way and Malana took over the mini-gun.

Doc looked back toward the Hotel as they drove out of there. He'd been given a second chance, a golden opportunity to save the world and find a cure. He'd failed. He began to wonder if there was any way to set it right or if survival was the best they could hope for.


	7. Chapter 7: Monsters Within

Chapter Seven - The Monsters Within

Darkness was swiftly approaching. Shadows were growing long as the November sun began to set over Northern Maryland. Private Charlie Wilhelm sat at the controls of the heavily armored personnel carrier guiding along Route 15 heading south. The group had been driving for nearly twenty hours now. They had departed from the Inn in Gettysburg the night before and hadn't looked back. There were fourteen of them crammed into the cramped quarters of the APC alongside a bag of supplies and several bags filled with guns and ammunition. To make matters worse three of them were children and one, an infant barely a month old. To make matters worse their route has been blocked by cars at various stages forcing them to diverge from the main highway and fine round-about ways of progressing often adding hours upon hours to their journey.

The road before them seemed to blur in the shadows spawned by the setting sun. Wilhelm felt his eyes growing heavy with fatigue. He felt his foot slipping harder against the gas pedal, the rev of the powerful engine shaking him from his half-sleep just in time to see the coming obstruction. He slammed on the breaks listening as the vehicle's impressive treads ground to a halt. The entire APC rocked forward almost causing the passengers to leave their cramped seats and sparking a round of crying as the baby awakened.

"Shut that damn thing up lady," Brutus groaned, awakening, he looked around at the tired faces and felt a bit guilty that he was the only one who could sleep in such cramped quarters.

"And how would you purpose I do that?" the woman, Kelly Nakamaru, asked, turning to her husband.

"I don't know," Brutus yawned, "You look like you got two perfectly good tits."

"Sir, don't speak to my wife that way," Kelly's husband, Daijito Nakamaru, interjected.

"Look bub I didn't mean anything by it," Brutus said confident that if the man did start something he could handle it but not wanting any unnecessary conflict, "I'm just saying we could do without the noise."

"My thoughts exactly," Malana scolded, "What's the hold up Private?"

"Something's blocking the road," Wilhelm reported.

"Damn," Brutus complained opening the door and climbing outside, "Another delay."

Many of the others exited the vehicle as well, more to stretch their legs than get a view of the obstruction. Blocking their way to Washington was a series of tanks. Three tanks sat in a row acting as a sort of road block but to make it even more impossible to get through an airplane had apparently crashed across the highway. Pieces of the aircraft sat squarely between the tanks and fuel fires still lifted gray smoke into the sky.

"Any sign of survivors?" Malana asked, shivering in the cold.

"No," Wilhelm replied, "I'm guessing the pilot of this F22 didn't survive and whoever was on the ground ran for it. There aren't any bodies."

"So maybe the pilot got out," Malana said with optimism brimming in her voice, "Maybe he ejected or-"

"I'm guessing he got infected," the Private interrupted, "It's more likely than him being a really bad pilot."

"A mid-air transformation?" Kael asked. He was glad to be out of the APC.

"The adrenaline of flying might accelerate the virus," Doc said, "Hypothetically, of course."

"Either way I don't think we should stick around," Private Wilhelm said, his eyes shifted around to the trees around him and then turned to a nearby turn off, "There's a town that way. You guys have that road map?"

"Yeah," Brutus replied digging in his massive backpack to get the map, "We're here, looks like this turn off goes to a place called Thurmont."

"Can we afford to go through?" Malana asked.

"Do we have a choice?" Wilhelm countered, "There's no way in hell the APC is bursting past this."

"Besides," Brutus interjected, "We need food and it'd be nice if we could find some extra vehicles too. Being crammed into this sardine can just ain't healthy."

"What part of this zombie apocalypse IS healthy Brutus?" Kael asked with a smirk.

"Good point kid."

"So, I guess we're going through Thurmont," Malana said conceding defeat.

"Do you think we could stay there?" Maria Jacobs asked. Maria was a small woman who had worked as a cook at the Inn before the arrival of the infection. When the military brass abandoned them it had been up to her, with the help of the grunts who had remained behind, to cut across town and save her husband Landon and her two children Erica and Gregory.

"Depends on how many infected there are," Malana admitted, "And if there are any survivors it depends on whether they would accept us."

"In other words I wouldn't get your hopes up," Brutus clarified.

"Hope is all that's keeping us alive," Landon, her husband, said, wrapping his arm around his wife before bending to pick up his crying son.

"Alright people," Private Wilhelm said, "Everybody back on the APC."

"You're turning into quite the leader Charlie," Malana said patting the man on the shoulder, "Your Father would be proud."

The sky was growing dark as they pulled into Thurmont but despite the darkness of the sky light was everywhere. The town's electricity was still, strangely, on. In fact most houses they past were lit up and Brutus, to his delight, even caught sight of the familiar glow of television. This sign alone wasn't enough to convince them of the town's nature as a refuge but the lack of infected as they drove down the city streets spoke volumes. They didn't see a single zombie and even saw several citizens walking down the street in the dark seemingly unafraid. It was as if this entire town had been passed over by the plague that had single-handedly shattered civilization.

Thoughts swirled in Malana's head as she peered out the small slit windows built into the side of the APC. She saw heads turning and eyes locked on the intimidating APC as if the town never even needed weapons. She began to wonder if only PA had been infected and if other states in the Union might have escaped annihilation. Could society still be thriving just beyond the border of Pennsylvania?

"What do you think?" Wilhelm asked.

"I think we should get out and ask some questions," Malana replied with a smile, "I was expecting a town in shambles filled with zombies but this place is incredible."

"Too incredible if you ask me," Brutus said, "I hate to be the voice of reason here but this is really weird."

"Weird yes," Sarah Milano, another of the passengers, interjected, "But that doesn't mean its bad, maybe these people have some way of keeping the infected out that we don't know about."

"Hey Doc," Kael said with a wide grin, "Maybe they have a cure."

The group conversed excitedly and despite suspicions that this whole thing was too weird for words they were all anxious to find out just what was going on. Wilhelm couldn't believe his eyes as he turned the next corner. A giant screen the likes of which he hadn't seen in decades. He rubbed his tired eyes wondering if this entire town wasn't some sleep deprived illusion as he parked the APC just outside of a drive-in movie theater. As the APC finally came to the stop there was a moment of silence followed by a mad rush to the door as all fourteen of them attempted to get out.

"Orderly please," Private Wilhelm reminded, "I don't want anyone to get hurt."

It was already too late for offering advice on how to exit - the group was as giddy as kindergartners on a field trip. Out they scattered into the night. Malana's attention, however, was still on Wilhelm. The exhausted soldier hadn't had a wink of sleep in more than twenty-four hours and now his eyes were fixated on the glowing screen of the movie theater. She approached him and soon realized that it wasn't the screen that had grasped his attention so rigorously, instead it was the figures standing out in the field. Most of them were next to cars but some stood idly out in the field with their eyes firmly on the screen. None turned to any other in conversation. They all had their focus solely on the screen. Wilhelm watched the words appearing on screen, it seemed to be some sort of religious program, hardly riveting film.

"Gimme a gun," Wilhelm requested and despite Malana's uncertain eyes he remained steadfast, "Give me a gun."

"Wilhelm, just because they're standing out there doesn't make them infected, they're probably just people," she said but she could see he wouldn't be shaken and she handed him her M4.

"Just in case," he promised taking his first steps into the field toward the nearest figure.

He understood Malana's attitude but he also understood that caution could not be forgone in a world where anyone could be an infected. To be caught without a weapon would be more dangerous than ending up making a bad impression. He stepped toward the first figure slowly with his gun lowered and reached out to put his hand on the person's shoulder. Before he could make contact the person spun around, the action was quick and startling but Wilhelm kept his head and realized that it was an ordinary man, not an infected, who stood before him.

"Sorry if I scared you," the man said, "What's with the gun?"

"Well, when I saw you all standing out here I thought you must be, you know, zombies."

"Zombies?" the man asked perplexed for a moment, "Oh! You must mean the infected."

"Yes," Wilhelm replied, "My friends and I have made our way from Gettysburg, the infected were everywhere, we're tired and hungry so we thought we'd pass through Thurmont and try to find some food. We had no idea there'd be people here, we thought that everywhere is overrun."

"Is everything okay Don?" a woman asked the man that Wilhelm was talking to.

"Yes, everything is fine, these people are just new in town," the man replied, "Come on, I'll take you into town and explain things along the way Mister, what did you say your named was?"

"My name is Charlie, Private Charlie Wilhelm. I was in the military until the whole world just went to shit. How is it so wonderful here? I haven't seen any infected?"

"And you won't," Don explained, "We've driven them away."

"But how?"

"What if I told you that the infected could reproduce?"

"I'd believe it," Wilhelm admitted, "there seem to be more of them everyday, and sometimes you'll find hordes in the strangest places, out in places where people don't even live."

"There is one thing the infected fear," Don said, his expression grew dark and sad, "The smell of their dead young. Kill a normal infected and they do not react, but if you kill a young infected it keeps them away."

"You mean you were forced to kill your children after they became infected?"

"No, no. Only those born infected will do, their blood, the smell of their flesh, it keeps the others, those who started out normal, away."

"That's pretty gruesome," Charlie admitted.

"Indeed it is," Don replied, "But it has kept us safe. Come, gather your friends and we shall get you the supplies and food that you need."

"Honestly Don we could use a place to sleep," Wilhelm announced, "Please understand. Some of us have been awake for more than twenty-four hours."

"I see," Don replied, "Very well. Gather your friends and I shall show you all to beds. In a few hours I will send someone to rouse you and we shall have a feast at midnight."

Wilhelm walked away in a stupor though he was unsure what had caused it, his excitement or his exhaustion. Despite the city having a gruesome secret to safety he felt completely fine. After all if the infected were out there spawning little infected children than there was no use allowing those zombie children to grow into zombie adults. That part still puzzled Wilhelm though. If there truly were zombies that could reproduce how rapidly could they do so? The infection had begun less than a month ago. Surely the gestation period for a young infected could not be under a month. The idea bounced around his tired mind as he approached Malana with an absent-minded grin on his face.

"Well Lana you were right," Wilhelm smiled, "No zombies here. Get the others. They're taking us to a place we can sleep."

"But how?" Malana asked watching Private Wilhelm yawn.

"I'll explain," Charlie replied, "They'll explain at the feast, at midnight. I just need to get some sleep."

"We all do," Brutus reminded, "Relax Mal, if Wilhelm's checked them out I'm sure they couldn't be all bad."

"A few minutes ago you said this place was weird," Malana argued.

"That was before I heard there was going to be a feast," Brutus smirked and his smile disarmed Malana's objections.

"Alright, fine," Malana said, "But we sleep with one eye open."

Don, who revealed his full name as Donald Weaver, led them to a nearby bed and breakfast. Brutus, despite being just as tired as everyone else, turned his attention to the breakfast aspect in spite of the fact it was six thirty at night. The rest of them found their rooms more than sufficient. With pillows beneath their heads even those who still harbored suspicions about the strange town quickly found themselves enveloped in the grip of sleep.

The five and a half hours seemed to slip by in an instant for the fourteen weary survivors. Malana woke with a start hearing the sound of a blaring trumpet or horn. The sound seemed to be coming from everywhere, not just emanating from one location. She rushed to the window and opened it listening as the haunting cry of the horn echoed through the chilly November air. No sooner had the horn started its mournful cries ended. Malana collapsed onto her bed and rubbed the sleep from her eyes, hardly able to believe how exhausted she still felt after nearly six hours of rest. Six hours was an eternity of sleep with the way the world was now. In an unrelenting apocalypse there was hardly ever any time to truly rest. She and her fellow survivors had been lucky; they'd gone from comfortable beds in an Inn to comfortable beds in a bed and breakfast. There was something off about this town. For one building to have power, for a set of Survivors to be struggling, was normal but this town was living in luxury while the rest of the world was in chaos.

A sudden knock at the door shook Malana from her thoughts and sent her heart racing. She approached the door and slowly opened it keeping her eyes on her crowbar and silenced M9 only a few feet away on the dresser. There was a woman standing outside the door with a beaming grin printed on her pale but pretty face.

"Wake up call Miss," the woman said in a timid but cheerful voice, "The feast is about to begin."

"Where's Don?" Malana asked but the woman ignored her question and moved on to the next door to awaken the next person.

Soon all fourteen of them were awakened including the baby who almost immediately began crying. Everyone in the group was groggy and Brutus, in particular, was more than a little reluctant to get out of bed. He began complaining about the rude nature of the awakening although his complaining stopped when they came downstairs to find the entire building packed with people. Tables were set up everywhere and all the furniture had been cleared out to make room for what looked like a massive banquet. Brutus began licking his lips at the sight as plate after plate of food was paraded out and placed on the tables. His stomach growled with anticipation as he nearly bowled over the others to get to the nearest seat.

Private Wilhelm's eyes scanned the crowd for Don and soon enough he'd spotted the man standing beside another man who was very strangely dressed. Wilhelm assumed that this man, who looked to be in his early fifties and of mixed racial heritage, was the leader Donald had spoken of. Private approached the two of them, setting aside any social anxiety he was harboring within as there was no time for any manners with the world in ruins.

"Ah, Private, you are awake," Donald said with a smile on his lips, "Please Private Wilhelm, this is our leader, Carlos Salvo."

"Mister Salvo," Private Wilhelm said shaking the man's hand.

"It is good to know that our town is not alone in surviving this nightmare," the leader replied, "There are others out there. Maybe in time more will join us."

"Sir," Wilhelm started, "Thank you for your hospitality sir, but we should talk."

"Patience Mister Wilhelm," Carlos said, "Please have a seat."

Charlie was more than a little bothered by the fact that he would have to wait for the answers he sought but with the meal about to officially commence and his own stomach begging for food he decided to take a seat. Everything imaginable was served, from simple things like burgers and hotdogs to fancier foods many of which the Private didn't even recognize. He began preparing himself a plate but kept the corner of his eye on Carlos Salvo, the self-declared leader of Thurmont. While he was grateful for the hospitality Wilhelm wasn't ready to let his guard down just yet. He glanced at all the others who, like him, seemed perplexed and suspicious of how out of place the entire City was. He was shaken from his thoughts by the sound of tapping against a glass as the feast was called to order.

"Thank you all for coming," Carlos Salvo began, "I know that this is far later than most feasts and I am surprised that more of you are not in home at bed. I guess a free meal truly is very tempting. We have guests, my fellow citizens, guests who have come from far away and are in need of our help."

"If anyone can help them, its you leader!" a man in the crowd shouted.

"Thank you," Salvo said, "Let the feasting commence and afterward I shall welcome the guests personally and we shall make atonement for their sins."

Wilhelm nearly choked on his first bite of food when he heard those words. His eyes narrowed as he looked to the leader and then to Donald. He could see the man's expression and knew that Donald could sense his displeasure. Wilhelm got out of his seat and began pushing through the crowd. He could feel all eyes on him although the conversations and hustle and bustle of the feast did not slow. He reached Donald and felt the sudden urge to ring the man's neck.

"What do you mean atone for our sins?" He asked, although his question was more directed at Carlos he looked at Don when he asked it.

"It was the sins of America that brought this plague upon us," Donald explained, "All those abortions, and gays getting married, it angered the Lord God and he sent a plague to punish us. He offered a way out only to us, to our prophet, our leader."

"That's crazy," Wilhelm argued, "And what sins do WE have to atone for? Are you guys all completely insane?"

"Please don't," Donald said, "Do not insult our hospitality, we have given you haven, refuge."

"We're just passing through," Wilhelm clarified, narrowing his eyes, "Tomorrow morning we're driving out of here."

"Pity," Carlos said entering the conversation, "If you leave you will all end up dead. If you remain here you can live out your days in peace, all of you. All it takes is atonement."

"We've done nothing wrong."

"All mortals are sinners," Carlos corrected, "Do not take it so personally."

"There's just one problem," Wilhelm said, "What happens when you run out of infected babies to kill?"

"I assure you that is not going to happen," Carlos countered with an unsettling grin on his thin lips, "Now please, eat, everything will be fine."

Wilhelm wasn't satisfied with any of their answers but his temper had been sufficiently diffused and the townsfolk gawking at him made him feel like he'd better watch what he said. To insult the leader of these sorts of religious types might be dangerous and he could not forget that human beings were capable of the same level of violence as the infected. He sat at the table for the rest of the feast picking at the food on his plate and only eating very lightly. He wasn't sure what had put him off his appetite, the realization that this town was lead by a religious zealot or the odd taste of the food. He thought to find solace with his friends but they seemed to be having a glorious time with even Malana smiling and laughing as they ate.

"The night is almost at a close," Carlos announced a few minutes later, "And there is one last piece of business to attend to. The atonement."

"The atonement," the crowd whispered, "Forgiveness of their sins."

Several robed figures emerged from the kitchen carrying with them a sack. None of the fourteen survivors could tell what was within that sack but as it was opened the truth became apparent. A ghastly sound filled the room, demonic wailing that seemed wholly unnatural as a layer of wrappings was peeled away to reveal the sickly green skin of the infected infant. Wilhelm rose to his feet and put his hands over his mouth, held in absolute mute terror at the sight of an infected child. It was repugnant - a very affront to nature itself - yet its cry was mournful, not angry. Private Wilhelm eased back into his seat as they brought the infant forward.

"Those among us that doubted, let them doubt no more," Carlos cried out and whispers shuddered through the crowd, "The infected do birth babies of their own into this world," the crowd rose to their feet as Carlos pulled from his robes a sharp jagged dagger with a cross carved into it, "It is their blood that keeps us safe, it is their blood by which we procure forgiveness for our sins."

"No!" Wilhelm cried flying to his feet once more, "You shouldn't, not here, not now!"

"It is one of them!" Carlos growled, "It is one of the damned Private and it shall die for YOUR sins."

"But it's just a baby!" Sarah Milano cried, holding her own baby close.

"A baby demon is still a demon," Carlos reasoned lifting the dagger high above his head.

Wilhelm reached for his pistol but found his holster empty. He grabbed a knife off the table and tried to make his way through the crowd. They were chanting now, repeating some dark mantra about washing away sins with the blood of the infected child. Their hands were on him then and the room felt as though it was spinning. His vision became blurry and every object became as a blob of meaningless color. As he slipped from consciousness the last thing he heard was the clang of his knife hitting the floor and the silence as the infant's screams ceased.


	8. Chapter 8: The Sacrifice

Chapter Eight - The Sacrifice

The world seemed to swirl around turbulently within his mind as he came to. His eyes struggled to open fighting against the blaring pain of his head. The first thing that Charlie Wilhelm noticed was that his hands were cuffed. He tried to sit up but found his muscles still partially in the grip of paralysis. The room around him slowly came into focus. It was well furnished with two lavishly upholstered chairs and a dresser accompanying the bed he was laying on. His first guess, despite still being in a mental fog, was that he was still within the Bed and Breakfast. He did his best to get to his feet but ended up collapsing onto the bed. He attempted to overcome the throbbing of his tired head but it seemed fruitless at first.

When at last the cobwebs cleared from his mind Private Wilhelm leapt to the task at hand, namely his escape. He wasn't sure exactly why it had been done but he was positive that, at the very least, his food had been drugged. He was thankful that they had decided to cuff his hands in front of him rather than placing them painfully behind his back. He stepped up to the door and, assuming that it would be locked, knelt to get a look out the keyhole into the hallway. As he had suspected a guard stood out in the hallway. His eyes darted around the room in a futile search for something, anything that he could use as a weapon in the inevitable confrontation. He gave up but quickly formulated an escape plan that would help him create a suitable weapon if executed correctly.

Private Wilhelm grabbed a small towel from the cramped bathroom and got a running start toward the window. He lowered his shoulder and slammed into the glass but to his dismay it didn't shatter, it didn't even crack. He was hoping that the glass was old and had been put in before the application of plastic between panes. He lowered his shoulder and charged again this time managing to crack the glass. He had to act quickly because already he could hear the guard becoming alert just beyond the door. Wilhelm got up one last head of steam and finally shattered the window. He was moving on pure instinct now, executing the plan without thought or doubt within his mind. He broke off a sharp shard of glass holding it safely with the towel and ducked into the bathroom just before the guard entered.

The guard, who Wilhelm recognized as one of the townsfolk he'd seen at the feast, ambled in with a perplexed expression splayed across his face. He drew his weapon, a handgun, and stepped up to the window using his eyes to scan the outside for any sign of the escaped prisoner. Private Wilhelm rushed him from behind impaling the shard of glass into his lower back and jarring him against the window sill nearly sending him out the window. The guard's gun toppled to the alley below which, Wilhelm only just now noticed, was covered with a light layer of snow. The guard screeched and turned on his enemy simultaneously reaching for the shard of glass that was embedded several inches into his back. Wilhelm used this opportunity to tackle the man to the ground driving the glass deeper and allowing the Private time to find the keys to the cuffs the guard was carrying.

Charlie Wilhelm had no time to free himself of the cuffs just yet, the sound of several pairs of footsteps pounding down the hallway told him he had to make his escape now. He took the keys and looked across the alleyway to a fire escape on the adjacent building. He leapt out just in time narrowly avoiding several rounds from a small caliber pistol. He wasn't in a much safer position, however, now dangling from a fire escape more than twenty feet from the ground beneath him. He swung himself using every bit of his strength he propelled himself across the street latching on the frame of the first floor window less than ten feet off the ground. He dropped to the ground well aware that the enemy was hot on his trail and dashed off into the darkness.

Drums. Drums pounding in her head. Malana Landry couldn't tell whether those drums were real or the product of the resounding pain in her skull. Shadows were all around her as her eyes opened at last, blurry forms and figures wearing robes that hid their faces. She could hear the drums more clearly now, each thud shuddered through her bones. Chanting was also there, quiet but constant, emerging from the lips of those who wore the robes. Her memory failed her for but a moment before the horrible truth dawned upon her. She felt the bindings of rope around her ankles and around her hands. She felt the hands of her captors upon her, pushing her forward through the forest. Fear flooded her mind as she considered the possibilities. Where were they taking her? Had this entire town gone mad? Or had the mad ones in the town merely killed or converted all those who were sane?

Malana looked all around her searching desperately for her friends but Brutus, Allan and Kael were nowhere to be found. She did see familiar faces, however, female faces. The other women of their group were there. Sarah Milano, Kelly Nakamaru, and Maria Jacobs were being led just as she was, bound and dressed in nothing but nightgowns through the snow-covered trees and icy ground towards a light source in the distance. Malana tried to struggle, she began to fight back twisting and turning but the hands that held her only grew more insistent and rough against her flesh.

"You can't do this!" she cried, "You can't fucking do this!"

"Awake at last," one hooded woman hissed, "He likes them when they are awake for it."

"Don't fight it," another one insisted, "You are being sacrificed for the glory of God and for the safety of our souls and our earthly bodies."

"FUCK YOU!" Malana spat trying to fall flat on the snow so that she could get her arms under her feet to get her cuffed hands out in front of her. It felt as though a hundred hands were holding her tight, keeping her from escape.

"We'll be there soon," one of the figures said in a familiar voice that Malana simply couldn't place, "The sacrifice is about to begin."

Private Wilhelm knew his enemy was near, he could hear the feet crunching through the snow. He stood atop the porch roof of one of the quaint little houses that populated the streets of Thurmont and waited. In his hands he clutched the Colt M19 he'd recovered in the alleyway of the Bed and Breakfast. He called out to his enemy luring him closer. The deranged citizen, dressed in darkest purple robes, turned the corner with his own gun, a double-barrel shotgun, drawn. Wilhelm waited until he heard the footsteps get close enough and then took aim and fired. His bullet buried itself into the snow puncturing the propane tank he'd buried there and blowing his enemy to bits. He hopped down to admire his handiwork but found himself cringing at the sight of crimson stained snow. It wasn't over, however, and one last enemy came around the corner.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't our little escapee," Don said lifting his Colt Python, "Come on Private, that's enough, I don't want to do any killing tonight."

"That makes one of us," Wilhelm growled rushing toward the deviant deceitful man and firing off a round into Don's foot before tackling him to the ground and disarming him.

"You really are a soldier aren't you?" Don growled as Wilhelm choked him with rage boiling in his veins.

"What did you do with them you sycophantic asshole!"

"I'm sorry," Don laughed managing to break free of Wilhelm's grip to punch him in the face, "You'll have to be more specific!"

"My group," Wilhelm said this time with his pistol to the man's head, "Where are they and what the hell did you do with them?"

"Careful Private," Don said with a sickening smile, "I'm ready to meet my maker, but you, you kill Private Wilhelm, and you know what the good book says about killing."

"Remember what it says about an eye for an eye?" Wilhelm growled reading the weapon to fire, "If you killed them I will bury you and this town in blood!"

"Relax Private," Don said at last showing signs of being nervous, "They are unharmed, for now, they have been chosen as the vessels for the sacrifice. The women have been taken to the forest, to the cave to the West of town, the men and the children are back at the bed and breakfast. It is a pity you chose this path, you had such promise. You could have been one of us Private. We serve a merciful and loving God. All he demands is the blood of the guilty."

"Then allow me to make an offering," Wilhelm said squeezing the trigger.

Wilhelm left the snow covered in blood and brains and grabbed Don's Colt Python before setting out. If he was going to save anyone from being sacrificed he needed some help and with no better plan apparent he decided a prison break at the Bed and Breakfast was in order. He made his way as stealthily as he could from street to street trying to keep clear of patrolling citizens. As he made his way he took note of nearly a dozen guards at the end of one street guarding something beneath a tarp but he decided against risking it, the APC would have to wait. The city was on alert because of his presence but despite this fact he didn't face much resistance reaching the Bed and Breakfast. He timed his approach so that the only two guards would be in front of the building and managed to sleep inside the basement door located on the side of the building. Using a skeleton key attached to the keychain he'd taken off the guard earlier he entered the bed and breakfast.

It didn't take long for the guards to arrive but Wilhelm was hardly about to be out shot by a few amateurs, the Colt Python delivered a poisonous dose of lead to the first four guards. Wilhelm bumrushed the last sentinel who came down the stairs holding a Mossberg 500 pump shotgun. Private Wilhelm was too quick for the man and was soon making his way up the stairs into the kitchen area with the shotgun in hand.

He opened the door before reaching the top stair and saw that the guards up above had itchy trigger fingers as bullets barreled into the wooden door with abandon. Wilhelm saw that every bullet was above a certain level and it sounded as if the rounds that went low were hitting a barrier. He took a deep breath and began to low crawl out of the door. His relief was palpable when he saw the fifteen foot long kitchen countertop that had blocked the bullets earlier. He could hear the footsteps of each sentinel moving closer to him. He could see their reflections in a nearby frying pan, three of them. Once he'd made sure his shotgun was loaded he popped up firing off three shotgun blasts in rapid succession. The first blast struck two of the guards tearing through their robes and burrowing into flesh they fell to the ground before the second and third rounds came. Those two final shotgun shells eviscerated the last soldier before he could even pump his shotgun the first time.

The sounds of footsteps in the next room told Wilhelm that he wasn't home free just yet. The first guard stumbled into the room wielding nothing but a pistol and clearly not using his brain. A second later his brain was splattered across the counter by one well placed frying pan to the head. The resounding gong of the frying pan was loud but not loud enough to spare Wilhelm the sickening crack of human skull. Killing infected humans was one thing but these were ordinary human beings, zealous and delusional perhaps, but still not zombies in the sense he was used to.

The next guard was much smarter. He opened fire on the room before entering littering the room with bullets at an impressively high fire rate. Wilhelm was forced to retreat to the basement again to avoid the ricocheting ballistic bullet fragments that bounced around the room. Wilhelm listened as the deafening sound of gunfire died out and the sound of the guard's boots against the linoleum tiles replaced it. He could hear that the guard was reloading his Light Machine Gun. In Wilhelm strode with his newly reloaded shotgun, out came two quickly pumped shells. The first impacted against the guard's bullet proof vest, apparently this man had been a policeman before the apocalypse turned him into a cultist. The second, however, tore off a good portion of the man's face and reduced him to a corpse in less than a second.

He moved into the next room hoping to face little opposition from here on out. As usual though Charlie Wilhelm's hopes did little to influence the reality of the situation he found himself in. There were guards waiting for him on the other side. However Charlie Wilhelm was no fool and he took several rounds of their gunfire to the bullet proof vest he was now wearing before blowing away each of the three guards in rapid succession. Breathing a sigh of relief that no bullets had found his face he raced upstairs towards the bedrooms. As he entered the hall a guard leapt at him from behind forcing him to drop his shotgun, he tried to get to it but soon found a knife lodged in his leg. He spun on his enemy watching as the guard grabbed his shotgun and pumped it. Wilhelm struggled to get the knife from his leg. It seemed hopeless as he tugged the stubborn steel and stared down the barrel of a shotgun at point blank. The fiend before him squeezed the trigger but to Wilhelm's surprise no shell was fired. HE WAS OUT. Of course, he remembered, he fired off every shell and didn't reload. Relieved at his own absent-mindedness Wilhelm retrieved the knife at last and, before the guard could turn and run, threw it at the man. It cut through the air and dug into the guard's throat sending blood spurting across the hallway. Wilhelm kicked the man's feet out from under him and down the guard fell tumbling down the stairs while the blood gushed from his wound.

Bleeding and exhausted Wilhelm struggled to get to his feet and recover the keys from his belt loop. Luckily the knife had not reached any arteries and the wound was fairly minor although it hurt like hell as he walked those first few dozen steps. He unlocked each door finding the men and children just where Don said they would be. After patching himself up using medical supplies from the bathrooms he quickly briefed everyone on the situation.

"They've taken the women," he said guzzling down water, "They're to be part of some sacrifice out in the woods at some cave."

"And you came for us first! They could be dead because of you!" Daijito complained.

"They could have been dead before I even woke up from the drugs," Charlie retorted, "I couldn't go it alone and besides, did you really want to stay in that room?"

"So what do we do soldier?" Brutus asked with a skeptical tone, "How do you expect us to rescue them?"

"The APC," Private Wilhelm answered, "On my way here I saw it at the end of the street. It's guarded but with all of us carrying guns we have a good chance of taking it back. Unless you have any better ideas."

"No, that one sounds pretty good," Brutus admitted reluctantly, "Let's do this."

"Wait a minute," Daijito said suddenly, "Where is Landon?"

Malana watched the obscene ceremony with bile swelling in her throat. She cringed as they brought out their last victim. She was very young, probably not out of her teens, her stomach swelled to bursting with the dark creature churning within. Malana could see the terror on her face as they laid her down on the flat stone and tore away her clothes to leave her naked. Her sickly pale skin was made even more colorless by the waning November moonlight. The chants grew louder now as the robed figures moved forward toward the young teen.

"Miss Dianna Yates," Carlos Salvo declared, "You are truly blessed! For in your belly lies the seed of the damned, the KEY to our salvation! You have been selected for the sacrifice and for one week within your womb a devil has gestated. Now it is time for it to be born."

Malana felt her eyes wet with tears as the poor girl screamed. The infected child within her, buried there by some sort of zombie, now devoured its way out. With razor claws and sharpened fangs it broke from her gun spilling blood and organs across the already bloodstained stone. Malana looked away in disgust. Despite being broken open Dianna Yates remained alive long enough to look into the lifeless eyes of the infected child as it breathed for the first time. The cult members moved to grab the infant and held it high. Carlos approached and inspected the creature and the other hooded figures gathered around.

"Don't move!" one of the hooded figures shouted and Malana's eyes sprung open again, "I've got a gun on him!"

"Landon?" Malana asked beneath her breath watching the cult members move toward the man they now recognized as an outsider.

"This has to stop!" the man shouted, his hood fell revealing that it was Landon Jacobs, husband of Maria Jacobs who stood less than a hundred feet away, "I will kill your leader unless the madness ends."

"The only mad one here is you," Carlos said, "We are merely seekers of salvation."

Malana used this moment to slip her hands below her feet and get them out in front of her. She turned on the guards then spin kicking the first before tacking the second. There were a lot of them but many had their attention drawn to Landon's distracting display. The other women soon caught on as well trying their own escape attempts. Robed figures were upon them at once and despite the distraction all four were soon back in custody of the cult members.

"A noble attempt at creating a distraction," Carlos applauded, "You would sacrifice yourself for these women?"

"For my wife, yes!" Landon shouted with fire in his blue eyes, "I would die for her."

"Then perhaps you should die with her!" Carlos shouted back before spinning on the man and plunging a blade into his heart, "In a week she shall join you beyond the gates of hell after she has served her purpose."

Landon's blood stained the snow below and the sound of wailing emerged from the lips of all the women, not just Maria. Malana felt sick to her stomach as they led the four of them forward toward Carlos, toward the cave.

"The time has come," Carlos cackled readying the dagger to kill the infant, "With the sacrifice of this infant we start the cycle anew!"

"Sir!" a robed man interrupted and Carlos cast him a nearly fatal glance, "Sir, it's the armored vehicle, they've taken it, they're lose in the town."

"Kill them," Carlos commanded coldly as he drove home the dagger into the wailing infected infant, "Kill the sinners down to the last child."

"You sure about this Charlie?" Brutus asked feeling truly strange behind the wheel of the APC.

"I explained the controls," Wilhelm argued, "You'll get the hang of it. Besides, somehow has to stay behind and look after the children."

"Shit," Daijito exclaimed poking his head into the APC, "Guys, it looks like there's a shit-load of them coming this way. Oh Christ!"

"What?" Brutus asked.

"They've killed Landon," Daijito explained with a pale expression, "They've got his head on a fucking pike."

"These fuckers are serious now," Brutus said, "Get on the gun kid."

"Sweet," Kael remarked climbing up to the mini-gun turret mounted into the APC.

"I'll take out as many as I can," Brutus said as Wilhelm ran back toward the Bed and Breakfast, "The rest is up to you."

Brutus drove the APC towards the woods trying to keep it moving at a brisk pace. Kael did his best to eliminate the cult members as they stormed out of the tree line as if on a crusade chanting eerily as they marched. Bodies flew apart and blood and bones were scattered but eventually Kael powered down the turret trying to conserve enough ammo to save the women when they reached the cave. The steady stream of citizens told them exactly where the cave was as they crashed through the underbrush towards their destination.

Wilhelm sat in the Bed and Breakfast unsure of what to do. He'd locked all the doors and had the children take refuge in one of the only rooms without any windows and with only one access point that he could guard. His nervousness was only multiplied by the sound of the crying infant, child of Kelly and Daijito Nakamaru. He was unsure if his presence was known or if his being there would actually serve to endanger the children rather than protect them.

All seemed quiet for the first few minutes with no sign of any kind that the cult had caught on to their whereabouts. It didn't take long, however, for the sound of the chanting crowd to fill the air. Wilhelm felt utterly stupid in those moments for not moving the children to a different building, for spending all their strength on getting the APC. He second guessed his decision to split the two groups. After all the children would have been fairly safe in the APC, it was armored after all and as far as he knew the townsfolk didn't have the tools to pierce that armor. Perhaps he wasn't cut out to be a leader at all, perhaps Malana had been wrong.

He quieted his doubts as the first patrol approached. He kept quiet and even attached a silencer he'd found on one of the guards to his M19. They entered the Bed and Breakfast through the front door, three of them had shotguns, the other two pistols and the last one merely carried a torch. They split up to search the facility and it didn't take long for Wilhelm to need to put his weapon to use as two of them followed the siren song of the wailing baby. He fired off three rounds into the first cult member but before he could end the other one's life the second citizen called out to the others. Wilhelm waited for the others and ended their lives just as quickly, none of them even got to fire a shot.

Momentarily satisfied with his performance he disrobed one of the cult members and got into the robe before dragging off the body. He lay, dressed as one of their own, at the top of the steps waiting for more to approach and masquerading as a fallen friend.

Malana felt fear pulsing through her blood and echoing across every fiber of her being. She could see the zombie moving in the back of the cave, coming towards them as it made its way through the winding tunnels. The cult members sat just beyond the iron bars that lay over the mouth of the cave watching and calling out for their grotesque pet to do its nasty work. They called it a Breeder. A zombie that, as Don had explained to them, could reproduce. But Malana had assumed, as had Private Wilhelm that the zombies were reproducing with each other not with humans. The very idea that this sickening thing was being used to impregnate human women nearly caused Malana to pass out especially now that she could see it.

The Breeder's skin was orange and gray and covered with scratches and wounds likely caused by its victims struggling against it. It towered over the four women and was at least seven feet tall and had four burly arms it could use to better dominate its victims. Its body was completely nude and Malana recoiled in horror at the sight. She turned to her side and felt bile rise in her throat and escape her mouth as the creature, heaving and panting and ready to mate, rushed toward them. It barreled Malana over despite her struggling and reached with sickly scaly hands attempting to spread her legs open.

"Now you shall give us what we need," Carlos cried, "A sacrifice!"

Suddenly the sound of gunfire lit up the night and, to Malana's delight, startled the Breeder enough for her to kick the creature away from her. Bullets bore into the crowd of cult members cutting them down quickly. Daijito, wielding a familiar M4 assault rifle, stepped out a few moments later and took aim into the cave quickly bringing down the Breeder.

"Freeze assholes!" Brutus shouted over the loudspeaker that was built into the APC, "Let the women go!"

"You monsters!" one of the cult members shouted, "You killed our Breeder!"

"Our salvation is lost!" another screamed.

"Your salvation is a bunch of horseshit!" Brutus shouted, "You can't kill innocent people just to keep your town safe."

"You are the only one here killing the innocent," Carlos accused, "My people are ready to meet God if it comes to that, but you sinner, you shall not find that to be pleasant."

"I gotta admit though," Brutus said, "Blowing your head right off your fucking shoulders would be pretty pleasant."

"Let them go," Carlos said to his members all of which recoiled in surprise, "They have won clearly."

"But what will we do?" a cult member asked, "We have no Breeder and no more women to sacrifice!"

"You'll just have to survive like the rest of us," Kael said helping the women out of the cave, "That's a sacrifice you'll just have to make."

Private Wilhelm was pushed to the limits of his endurance. He'd been holding them off for twenty minutes now but he was running out of options. There were dozens of them in the building now and he could only kill so many before he would run out of ammunition and places to hide. He'd moved the children into another room and fed a bit of tied up bed sheet out the window in case they needed an escape route. It had been made abundantly clear that the cult members were now actively trying to kill the children. Erica Jacobs had merely met an untimely death at the knife of one wily enemy when she'd left the room in an attempt to find a bathroom.

Despite his best efforts there seemed to be no end to their horde. He now saw the relentless single-mindedness that made these people so much like the infected. His bullets entered their bodies without remorse now as robed corpses hit the ground one right after the other. He'd managed to find an MG36, he'd taken it off of the bullet proof vested corpse from the kitchen. Despite its high rate of fire and massive magazine even that could not stem the flow of enemies forever. The bodies were piling up and Private Wilhelm began to wonder where between fifty and a hundred the body count truly was. Molotov cocktails, stray bullets and even the occasional fire cracked were tossed towards him, towards the landing at the top of the stairs where he made his final stand. He'd taken a few hits, nothing direct, two minor grazes and a burn from putting out Molotov flames before they could reach the children.

Finally the bullets stopped and the bodies all lie still. Nearly a hundred enemies lie dead across the dining room below. Purple robes stained by red blood strewn across the Bed and Breakfast. Wilhelm took the time to reload the last gun he had ammunition for, the M19. The minutes ticked by without incident and Wilhelm tried to listen beyond the ringing in his ears for the sound of any remaining enemies. He hoped that Brutus and the others had done alright and that they would make their way back soon. Silence filled the air and his eyes were growing heavy but he couldn't allow himself to fall asleep. With groggy eyes he watched the children peek out into the hall. They walked out with concern on their young faces for his well being.

"Go back," he said gently, "Go back."

"Are there anymore bad guys Mister Charlie?" Gregory Jacobs asked.

"Go back!" Wilhelm said, more insistently. It was too late however, he turned his eyes to see a man standing there in a robe with wicked grin across his face and a pistol pointed straight for four year old Gregory Jacobs. Wilhelm summoned every bit of his remaining strength to put himself between the kid and the bullet as it arrived. He felt the round enter the base of his neck and cut its way through his collar bone but luckily, thanks to his bullet proof vest, the round stopped after it emerged from his spine. He collapsed to the floor with blood rushing onto the carpet of the landing as he tried to stop the man from hurting any of the children.

"Don't die just yet," the sick-o cult member cooed, "I want you to watch what I do to the children. They will be sent to meet God."

Wilhelm couldn't do anything, he tried to reach for the M19 but it had fallen behind him. He took his hand away from stopping the bleeding to reach for his gun. He was losing far too much blood and the world grew dark around him. In those last moments he felt like a failure. It was his decision that had doomed them, this detour would be the end of three little children and an infant and one failure of a soldier. He managed to get a hold on the gun but the blood that covered his hands made it slippery. It was then that he saw William, Sarah's son, emerge from the room with a look of sheer rage displayed on his ten year old face. Without skipping a beat the kid grabbed the M19 from Wilhelm's hands and held it toward the man

"Tell your God to go fuck himself."

William Milano pulled the trigger ended the life of the cult member whose corpse tumbled down the stairs.

"Kid," Wilhelm managed to wheeze, "You did good kid. William, I want you to have this," Wilhelm said tearing off his dog-tags, "Wear it proudly."

"I won't forget this," William said watching the man fade from life, "I'll tell them how you protected us."

The others arrived five minutes later finding Wilhelm in a pool of blood, most of it belonged to others. It was too late for him and despite finding a defibrillator in a nearby ambulance they were unable to revive him. Each one of them paid their respects to the fallen soldier in their own way as they buried him in the snow-covered soil of the local cemetery. Had he been alive he would have heard kind words, no one declared him a failure. It was his sacrifice that had saved the children and his heroics that had saved them all.

They left Thurmont as the first light of dawn crested over the horizon each one with new demons haunting them. Malana was amazed at just how monstrous human beings could become without the infection. How quickly society was replaced by superstition in such dark times. They departed without two of their own, tired and unsure of where to turn they drove on down Route 15. Wanting to survive, but hoping for a haven.


	9. Chapter 9: Midnight

Chapter Nine - Midnight

Brutus peered back over his shoulder at the others with a solemn look on his stoic face as the APC came to a full stop. This was it, they were out of fuel. They'd left Thurmont behind them and driven without stopping for fuel or for sleep. They had been forced to find new routes into Washington due to abandoned cars and military vehicles that had littered the main roadways. These detours had taken them even farther away from any possible sources of fuel. Brutus wasn't normally one for letting his emotions get the best of him but even he felt the weight of their situation as they piled out of the APC with eyes searching in every direction for possible dangers.

The shadows of mid-afternoon in mid-November began to consume the landscape. The sun was on its way down, albeit they still had at least an hour of daylight left this proved little comfort as they made their way toward the nation's capital. Only a trickle of hope remained within in any of them and it was a hope born of absolute desperation. That thin line of hope was the only thing rescuing them from a never-ending abyss of despair. Malana, ever the optimist, tried to keep their spirits up. As they marched they were following their roadmap, toward the capital. She regaled them with stories of Haven, blending rumors she'd heard from the soldiers in Gettysburg with fiction and fantasy she'd fabricated to keep herself sane. The Haven of her stories was a friendly place, a place where children roamed free and played safely and stern but kindly soldiers defended the complex from the infected to keep the people safe. Eventually she grew tired of telling the story afraid she was getting their hopes up too high.

"Do you really think this Haven place exists?" Kael asked her taking a swig of water from his canteen.

"Soldiers seemed pretty sure of it," Malana said, "Corporal Ryan said there were tunnels under DC that would lead us right to it."

"I'm guessing they're just going to shoot us when we get there," Brutus said but he lacked his usual joking tone and just looked sad, "If this Haven place exists it was made for big wigs, we're just insects to those elitists bastards, they won't let us in even if we turn out to all be immune."

"What if we're not all immune?" Doc Wright said noticeably bothered by Brutus's words.

"Relax Doc, we're immune," Brutus said trying to cheer the man up, "We've been knee deep in the infected since we picked your sorry ass up near Riverside."

"It isn't me I'm worried about," Doc said absent-mindedly glancing back at the others.

"When we get to Haven maybe you can start working on a cure again," Kael said patting Doc on the shoulder.

The group grew quiet after that each retreating to their own thoughts as they hiked along. Kael thought of Jessica. How he wished there had been a cure to save her from the infection. To think that if a cure had been found she might've been in his arms. He hoped that a cure could be found and that no one else would have to watch someone they care about become a monster bent on violence and fueled by unthinking rage. He looked to the others and realized that they had become the ones he cared about now. Malana was like a Mother in a way, the badass kind who could bonk zombie heads and still remind you to eat your peas. A smile came to Kael's face at that thought but it was gone almost instantly.

They soon came out of forest, which a sign soon identified as Rock Creek Park and stepped, for the first time, into one of the suburbs of Washington DC. At first everything seemed at least somewhat normal until something in the sky to the south caught their attention. Billowing clouds of smoke rose in the distance obscuring the sun as they rose into the sky. The group rushed forward now as quickly as their feet would carry them toward the highest point they could find but Malana called them to a halt before they could scatter.

"The infected could still be around," Malana said before pointing to a nearby water-tower, "We go together."

They proceeded slowly climbing up the ladder one at a time before everyone was atop the tower. Eyes turned south towards the capital. Jaws dropped and eyes widened when they saw the city, or what was left of it. Ruins. Rubble and bombed out buildings were everywhere. Familiar monuments that had served as landmarks were missing save for one. The obelisk still towered high above Washington wearing only a few wounds from the fate that Washington had suffered. Flames still smoldered creating the billowing smoke the survivors had witnessed from the road below. Silence had gripped them now as they looked on in mute horror at what had befallen the once proud city. The center of Western democracy now a crypt, a tombstone for civilization brought to its knees by the tiniest of enemies - a virus.

"It can't be," Sarah Milano remarked, "The infected couldn't have done this."

"Not the infected," Daijito said, "This had to be the military."

"They bombed their own city?" Maria Jacobs asked, "Their own capital."

"Must have been overrun," Brutus said gulping as he looked down, "Besides, if all the VIPS made it to Haven they could have bombed it safely."

"I doubt they managed to evacuate everyone," Doc argued, "There is no doubt that some died."

"So, are we still going?" Kael asked.

"If some were left behind in the city than some had to have survived," Malana said, "Maybe we can find them while we look for the tunnels and get them out of the city."

"Works for me," Brutus said beginning his climb down and going as quick as he could, "I hate heights, if there's one thing I hate more than zombies it's definitely heights."

"So zombies on a plane would be the culmination of your greatest fears?" Kael asked with a grin, "Remind me to pitch that to Hollywood if this whole apocalypse thing ever blows over."

Despite the mood everyone laughed at the joke. The hopeless situation called for humor. Like a Frankenstein monster hope had to be constantly resurrected to keep it from dying fully. There was no other way for the survivors to stay sane and to keep their survival instincts honed.

They made their way into Washington DC as the sky lit up with pinks and oranges. These shades of color were choked from the sky by billows of black smoke rising from the rubble of the city. Fires were everywhere and the sound of distant gunfire told the group that their suspicions were right. There were survivors in the city despite the fact that bombs had clearly been dropped. One bomb, apparently a dud, sat in the ruins of a nearby building. It had caved in the roof and tore through a wall on its way down but hadn't detonated. The destruction was incredible and everywhere they went the stench of death followed. Bodies too charred to recognize, and scattered remains tossed by the explosions, were a common sight as they traversed the streets. Doc tried to identify them but it was impossible to tell if they were infected or merely innocent helpless civilians. The truth became even more horrid when they found dog tags and tattered pieces of a military uniform.

"Would they bomb their own people?" Kael asked.

"They left those guys in Gettysburg behind," Brutus growled, "I have no doubt that the gutless leaders would bomb their own men to shit just to save their own asses."

Malana gestured for them to be quiet and grabbed her silenced M9. She eased forward into the street. Her eyes darted back and forth but it was her ears that tipped her off to the presence of something. Soon everyone else heard it too, the sound of footsteps followed quickly by screeching and growling. Malana exchanged her M9 for her silenced M4 as the beast revealed itself. She took aim as the Hunter leapt from a nearby rooftop and landed on Maria Jacobs. Malana hadn't expected so sudden and violent attack as the Hunter dug into Maria's flesh. It was Erica Jacobs, Maria's daughter who was first to try to rescue her mom, whacking at the Hunter with her ragged doll she was swatted aside by one of its claws drawing thin lines of blood on her cheek. Malana put the Hunter down a second later with four rounds to the head watching its body erupt for seemingly no reason into a river of gore along the ground.

"Are you alright?" Doc asked tending to Maria's wounds but finding them to be fairly minimal.

"I think so," she whined, "hurts like hell though."

"She should be okay," Doc announced a few moments later after applying some makeshift bandages to her wounds, "It wasn't that bad. The Hunter didn't get at any arteries or vital areas."

"You okay to go on?" Malana asked and Maria nodded.

"You okay sweetie?" Doc asked dabbing some of the blood from Erica's face, the little girl nodded and stuck her thumb in her mouth, "She seems okay too."

"Let's get out of here before more of those things show up," Brutus said.

Normally Malana would have wanted to let the wounded rest but with sunset approaching and the sound of gunfire, explosions, helicopters and screeching infected in the distance still coming fairly frequently she thought it wise to press on. They continued into the city, everyone was quiet and all eyes were constantly shifting, searching the city streets and ruined buildings for signs of the infected. Destruction was everywhere, some streets were blocked, and sometimes entire areas of the city were cut off by piles of debris. Wreckage from civilian vehicles and military vehicles alike lie strewn across the city, twisted metal and rubble now defined what once was a bustling metropolis. And always there was that stench, gut wrenching and horrid that wafted through the ruins to greet them.

They came upon a body a little while later. The corpse was that of a soldier who sat with a frightened expression on his young face as if he'd been killed merely by exposure to the elements. The body was entirely intact and other than some abrasions and bruises he appeared fine. Doc looked over the body unable to surmise a clear cause of death. The sad scene yielded something else though. In the soldier's hands was something that instantly sparked their hope, a radio. Doc pried it carefully from the corpse's grip and adjusted the knobs trying to find the appropriate frequency.

At first static was all that emerged from the radio taunting their ears. Then the tell tale sound of voices came through as Doc zeroed in on a frequency the military was using. They were coming in more clearly now, the cold sterile voices of military men communicating. Some seemed to be the brass who had left the men behind in the city, their messages repeated over and over again. In between those broadcasts came the crisp clear voices of those who still remained in the city, most of them asking for help.

"Any Civis in the DC area come back over," a voice said over the radio, "This is your last chance over."

"We're here," Doc said with his voice nervously cracking, "There are twelve of us, twelve civilians."

"What is your location Civis?"

"We just entered the city about an hour ago," Doc said looking around but finding no street signs intact.

"Jesus Christ," the voice came back, "Then you don't know about the bomb."

"We can tell this place has been bombed," Doc corrected.

"No," the soldier said, "THE BOMB. They're dropping a nuke on this city tonight. That's what that encrypted message they've been replaying as been saying, they're going to wipe DC off the map and get rid of the infected and the witnesses to their own atrocities in the process."

"We can turn back, perhaps find a vehicle in the suburbs," Doc argued as the faces of his fellow survivors turned grim.

"Negative Civis, I recommend you continue south toward the Potomac. The suits may have left us out to dry but we've got some boats waiting to get as many out of here as we can. Just have to make it by zero hour, Midnight."

"Where?"

"The docks are along Maine Avenue and Water Street, near what's left of the Treasury. Good luck out there and stay alert, there's not just infected to worry about every damn survivor in this city, military or civilian, knows about these boats."

"What about tunnels?" Doc asked but the radio was on the fritz as another encrypted message came through, "What about Haven?"

"Can we make it by midnight?" Malana asked watching the last light of the sun vanish and night fully take hold.

"I don't know," Doc admitted finally giving up on the radio and placing it in his bag, "And even if we do there's no guarantee we escape the blast radius or avoid a major dose of radiation. We have to try though."

"We need to move," Brutus said reminding Maria Jacobs, "I know you're hurt but-"

"It isn't me," Maria said, "Its Erica, she's fussing and she has a runny nose now. I hope she isn't getting sick."

"Sick?" Brutus asked aloud bending down to look at the kid, "Doc, this kid don't look so good. She wouldn't happen to be one of the ones who isn't immune would she?"

"Brutus," Doc scolded, "What are you suggesting?"

"You know he's right Doctor, you told me and Landon yourself remember, back in Gettysburg... She's one of the ones who isn't immune, she's vulnerable."

"And now she's been scratched by a Hunter," Brutus said spitting, "I ain't traveling with a little girl that might go crazy and attack us."

"You scared of little girls Brutus?" Kael asked boldly but the look Brutus gave him cut him down.

"I don't want to have to be the one to put a bullet to her," Brutus growled grabbing his Spas-15 and walking in a southern direction, "I ain't sticking around while you guys debate whether or not to take her along."

Brutus walked into the distance hoisting himself over a nearby pile of debris before continuing on without them. The others looked away assuming the big brute wouldn't go far without them. They were gathered around Erica inspecting her each offering their opinion as to whether or not she was infected. It was true that she had a runny nose but some excess snot was hardly a symptom of the infection. While it had originally been labeled a flu by CEDA it had been obvious that this was no flu from the start especially to Doc who specialized in infectious disease.

"So she's a bit grumpy and she has a runny nose," Malana said shrugging, "Nothing to worry about right Doc?"

"Maybe," Doc said, "Maybe not. There's no way to tell yet. We'll have to wait and see."

The group was content in Doc's decision believing it too early to tell whether the Hunter's scratch had infected Erica. Still the prospect that this helpless little girl was soon to be a ravenous infected, another member in the mindless horde, was unsettling to say the least. She was one of only two members of their group that were not immune. Kelly Nakamaru was the other but she also happened to be a bit of a clean-freak and always kept herself as clean as possible. They turned back toward the road Brutus had traveled down but before they could climb up onto the debris the big man was scurrying back toward them with fear in his eyes.

"Run!" Brutus yelled leaping over the debris pile, "RUN!"

"Mind telling us what we're running from?" Malana asked reloading her M4.

The thuds in the ground answered all their questions as the towering behemoth crashed through the debris pile directly behind them. The Tank's roar echoed through the smoldering ruins as it chased down its prey with fists beating fervently against the rubble littered streets below. It hefted more than a ton of debris from its path and tossed it toward the scattering survivors. Several pieces managed to hit them but none big enough to cause any serious damage. Most of the pile fell far short of the mark.

Malana searched the area for ways to make fire, for some tools to set the Tank ablaze but there was nothing. She turned and began to run backwards, Brutus, Kael, Doc and Daijito did the same firing on the massive monster as it rushed at them. They heard something then and moments later saw the chopper soar overhead firing its mini-gun on the Tank as it flew. They moved even farther from the monstrosity as the Helicopter pulled in closer to better hit the Tank. They watched the two battling it out as the Tank tried to toss debris toward the chopper and the pilots narrowly avoided the debris trying to stay just above the Tank's range. They swept back and forth making run after run but the Tank was no slow moving infected and it often managed to duck behind debris. The Chopper made a pass, even lower this time, but the Tank was ready. It had climbed atop the debris just as the Chopper was overhead it reached out grabbing onto the skids. The chopper could barely hold its weight, it tipped in the air as the pilot tried to pull up. Tank and Chopper rose into the air. The frightened survivors on the ground below watched the Tank punching at the side of the chopper as it began to plummet to the ground below. The fiery wreckage landed only a hundred feet away from them. They lifted their weapons and drew in close only to find the Tank still alive. Though its legs had been crushed in the crash it still pulled itself along with those grotesquely misshapen arms dragging the rest of its sickening body. It let out a horrid growl with its charred body still smoldering as the survivors opened fire desperate to put it out of its misery before it could reach them. Then, at last, it lay limp.

The group had little time to stop and think. They scarcely had enough time to replenish their ammunition from the gun bag that Brutus carried, before they had to move on. Malana led the way with a flashlight in one hand and her silenced M9 in the other. Washington DC, like many cities, was known to glow at night but now it was smoldering flames of burned out buildings that offered the only light. Had the moon even been out it would have been blocked by the suffocating clouds of sinister smoke that still hung in the sky ever rising from the ruins.

They marched on in the darkness listening as the city came to life with the sounds of screams, screeches and gunfire even more pronounced than during the day. Helicopters with spotlights combed the skies but each time they spotted something they seemed to fire indiscriminately so the group hid whenever one passed overhead. No one said a word as they marched south, or at least they hoped it was south. Getting their bearings was hard but every so often a ruined street sign or semi-recognizable ruin pointed them in the right direction. For hours they walked, until they came to one of the few monuments still standing, though fires burnt on the lawn and tanker truck had crashed into the West Wing, The White House.

"How is she?" Doc asked Maria as they stopped to rest for a few moments.

"She won't speak to me," Maria explained, "I'm afraid she might be in shock from when that thing attacked me."

"Let's hope that shock is all it is," Doc said patting her on the shoulder and noticing the little girl was coughing and that her skin seemed an odd shade in the light of his flashlight.

"That's it people," Malana said after only three minutes, "We need to make the docks by midnight."

"Pity you won't live to see them," a voice called out from the shadows.

Out stepped a soldier and several civilians wielding a mix of weaponry. One held nothing but a machete but three held sub-machine guns and the leader who had addressed Malana held an impressive sawn-off shotgun.

"Here's the deal love," the man said in a British accent that told Malana his military uniform was likely pilfered from a dead soldier, "You give us your supplies and we let you come with us to the boat."

"You'll let ALL of us come?" Malana asked narrowing her eyes.

"No," the man corrected approaching her and lowering his weapon for a moment to sniff her hair, "Just you love. You are one fine specimen of a woman you know that."

"I also know how to use a gun," she whispered lifting her M9 until it was resting against his stomach, "All of us are going to the boats and we're keeping our supplies."

"You couldn't make this easy could you?" the man asked, he tried to grab for his shotgun. As the bullet entered his abdomen he realized his mistake.

His friends would have come to his aid, had the sound of an incoming horde, the horrid screech of dozens of infected, not followed his death. Malana realized her mistake as the man pulled back and some liquid was running from him alongside the blood. She reached inside his uniform and pulled out the vile of Boomer Bile. She'd heard about the effects of Boomer Bile from Private Wilhelm and she knew that Kael had a run in with a Boomer back in Gettysburg. The infected were on their way as every last drop spilled out.

Malana ordered the group forward but it was too late, they were everywhere. Infected scrambled across the White House lawn came from every crowded alley and ruined building. They did their best to fold inward forming a protective circle around the three children with Daijito holding his baby daughter. This would have worked if only common infected had come. Malana caught sight of one special zombie but it was the one they could not afford to have. Singing what sounded like a creepy lullaby the Siren approached and offered them a sinister grin with sharpened teeth before belting out its song to summon the infected.

Now the horde would be multiplied. Malana opened fire with her M4 slaughtering the Siren before turning her attention to the other infected. Back in Gettysburg she'd managed to find some extended magazines for the M4, each one holding fifty rounds of ammunition. She'd saved those for a special occasion and now seemed as good a time as any. Bullet after bullet bit into the zombie horde as they attacked. Corpses fell forming momentary impedances for their brethren. Still things seemed under control as each and ever survivor opened fire.

More infected were on the way. A Hunter pounced in from atop a nearby building only to have its face blown off by a Spas-15 shell. A Glider flew in letting out a horrid screech that was clearly mimicker of its last victim's death cry but it too met its end. A smoker got in close, hidden behind its fellow horde members it shot out its tongue wrapping around Daijito Nakamaru. The man screamed as the tentacle grabbed him and pulled him toward the White House gate. His wife, Kelly, grabbed the baby before any harm could come and watched in horror as her husband was dragged off. Doc turned and took aim with his M1A with night vision scope. He fired two shots freeing Daijito from the tongue before he took aim and fired at the horde that now surrounded him. Malana stood in front of Kelly now defending the baby as the others tried to help Daijito. Sarah Milano stepped out firing off shells with the Mossberg 500 she'd taken from Thurmont. The horde was thick, however, and just as Sarah reached Daijito a second Special stepped up. Burning a hole right through the bars of the gate the Spitter stepped forward and shot out a pool of spit struck the man directly and sprayed onto Sarah as well. Both cried out in agony a scream that became triple when Maria Jacobs began to scream as well.

Everyone turned toward Maria who struggled with Erica. The little girl now gone replaced by a ravenous zombie with pupil-less eyes trying to gouge her own Mother's eyes out. At her feet lie Greg, the four year old boy already dead apparently at the hands of his sibling. Squelching the feeling of sadness and swallowing his I-told-you-so Brutus lifted his shotgun and blew the little girls head clean off. It was too late for Maria, however, for Erica had grown claws just as long and sharp as those of the Hunter, but the little girl had gone for the throat. Doc turned and tried to stem the flow of blood. There was no helping her, she would bleed out in moments and more zombies were pouring in. They looked to every side firing their weapons trying to protect the two children, and one infant, who remained.

"I say we cut and run!" Brutus shouted.

"We can't just leave the injured behind!" Doc argued, "Reloading!"

"I don't think we have a choice Doc," Malana admitted looking back to see Sarah and Daijito were now lifeless bodies still being beaten by the angry horde, "We need to get the baby and ourselves out of here now!"

Malana had them cut a path with their fire while she beat back any who got close enough with her crowbar. They kept the horde away from Kelly, the baby and young William Milano as they marched south. They knew they were close but they also knew midnight was far away. They'd already lost four of their own and weren't about to lose any more. The horde died out a few minutes later leaving the streets behind them covered in infected corpses and the city before them eerily calm. Soon enough they saw other groups of survivors like theirs as well as plenty of soldiers who, unlike the last one they met, were the real thing.

"Come on people," one soldier said, they recognized his voice from the radio, "It's almost midnight, we're pulling out!"

"You're the man from the radio," Doc said nearly collapsing from exhaustion.

"Names Corporal Suggs," the man explained, "You Civis are lucky you heard from me when you did, you just barely made it."

"Not all of us made it," Kelly said sadly stepping onto the boat.

"We'll try to change that from here on out," the Corporal said sympathetically, "Let's get this show on the road."

The survivors watched the Potomac River race past as they set out from the docks of DC less than five minutes later. Despite having escaped the city without being torn limb from limb but a nuclear explosion none of them were happy. What was meant to be their last journey, their journey to find Haven, had turned into a nightmare. Five of their own lay dead, two of them children, back in that cursed city, a city they chose to go to. Malana felt partially responsible, guilt coursed into her as she considered Kelly Nakamaru trying to calm her crying baby. It was her decision to hurry on to DC after escaping Thurmont, she'd foolishly brought their hopes up that Haven was not only real but that the secret to it existed in DC. A warning went up to all aboard to go below decks as the explosion took place in the now fairly distant city. A city which had once stood tall as a monument to Western Civilization was laid low the instant that midnight struck. With a mushroom cloud rising in the distance the boats pushed on into the night.


	10. Chapter 10: Amphibious

Chapter Ten: Amphibious

The morning sun listed lazily in the November sky as the boats chugged through the chilly waters. It was the first time in two days that the skies had opened up and been clear, the first day without rain. They'd been caught up in a storm when their convoy had emerged into the Chesapeake Bay but thanks to the quick thinking of the soldiers they managed to escape the winds. As they headed inland down ever-winding rivers that grew skinnier and harder to navigate they were chased by the rain and the wind. It had pressed them to their limits. Most of the supplies on board were ruined by the constant downpour and now they faced a crisis of fuel. The boats were running low and time was running out.

To make matters worse they weren't exactly amidst civilization. They had traveled down a winding river into the woods of Virginia. Now it was more like a swamp. The water around them moved slowly and carried with it a stench of death. Even if they did manage to find some sort of structures amongst the trees they would be unlikely to find the fuel they needed for the boats.

Kelly Nakamaru stood on the deck cradling her child and humming quietly to herself. The baby was sleeping soundly and the humming was more to keep her unsettled mind from driving her mad. She was afraid. She'd always been afraid, even before the apocalypse descended. Daijito had been her rock, her anchor, the one constant in the storm of chaos that had enveloped the world. Now he was gone and with him she felt a piece of her that could never be recovered was gone. She knew she needed courage and calm to keep herself and the baby alive and she was thankful that she had others around her to help.

Malana walked toward Kelly offering the woman the most sincere smile she could muster. Malana stopped for a moment and began to cough raising looks of concern from all aboard especially those in uniform. Malana felt a wave of fear when she saw one of the military grunts nervously eye his weapon and than look back at her. She forced herself to stop coughing and stood next to Kelly looking down at the fetid water.

"Corpses," Malana mentioned absent-mindedly watching several bodies float by, "Probably washed into the water by the storm."

"I wonder if the infected can swim," Kelly replied shifting the baby to her other shoulder.

"I think we'd have seen some of them by now," Malana said in a less than reassuring tone. Malana turned toward the young boy William Milano who had lost his Mother in DC.

"How is he handling it?" Kelly asked gesturing toward the boy,

"He isn't," Malana answered with a sigh, "He's acting as if nothing happened. I talked to him earlier and it was like he doesn't even realize something terrible happened. He knows his Mother is gone but he doesn't seem to be grieving her."

"He will," Kelly nodded, "Give him time. Kid's know how to cope with this sort of thing."

"I hope you're right," Malana agreed turning to Kelly who she saw was now crying, "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," she assured, "I just can't imagine that we're ever going to make it somewhere safe."

"The world is fucked," Brutus said entering the conversation. The big man had only just woken up and he stretched and yawned as he approached the two women, "We're just delaying the inevitable."

"Why don't I just shoot you now than?" Malana asked trying to add some levity to things.

"If you think you're man enough," Brutus started, "Woman enough... err... You know what I mean!"

"I'd rather see you get eaten," Malana said laughing but her laugh soon turned into a cough that had the others looking at her funny.

"Your friend okay?" A solider by the name of Wilkins asked Brutus, "Cause if she ain't we're going to want to put her down."

"She's fine Private," Doc explained entering from below decks, "She's fully immune from the infection."

"You think just because you're a doctor I trust you?" The Private growled, "I seen plenty of people given a clean bill of health turn into them fucking things. The only thing I trust is my eyes and my ability to pull the trigger."

"Easy Private," Corporal Suggs said trying to diffuse the situation. He was the main authority here. Just his physical presence commanded respect. He was a muscled tank of a man, six foot three with arms and legs like tree-trunks. He wore several scars, two of which he'd received during tours of duty in Afghanistan but another four that had come after the zombie apocalypse.

The other ranking member was Corporal Amber Frost who Kael had taken a strong liking too. She was barely twenty years old but already had her share of battle-scars. Kael had spent most of the past few days as close to her as possible. He felt a bit like a stalker as he listened in on the conversations that went on between her and the other four soldiers who were aboard their particular boat. The lewd stories of sexual exploits in particular excited him. Corporal Frost came off as anything but virtuous and refined, she was a sexually liberated woman. The stories of her valor in battle were no less enthralling for the young Kael, hearing how she took a blast of shrapnel from a grenade and still managed to hold down the rocky outcropping against insurgent forces for several hours with no reinforcements and dwindling ammunition.

Brutus looked over now to see that Kael was once again hovering near the Corporal. Brutus shook his head at how quickly the kid's libido had recovered. Kael's last would-be girlfriend had become a hideous member of the infected horde known as a Spitter. Brutus approached Kael and slapped him on the shoulder.

"How you feeling today kid?" Brutus asked with a grin.

"A bit sick," Kael said honestly feeling a bit green.

"Yeah well don't advertise it," Brutus suggested, "Some folks around here wouldn't mind shooting you. So what do you think of her?"

"She's incredible," Kael said, "Perfect even."

"She's definitely a spunky cunt," Brutus agreed and his remark earned him an angry glare from Kael.

"I'm just a kid compared to her," Kael sighed, "She's been through so much. Before the world went to shit I was a nobody."

"You'll never have a chance if you count yourself out before trying," Brutus said in his best motivational guru voice, "I used to tell my students something like that."

Kael let Brutus' words sink in as his stomach contents settled a bit and he began to feel better. He glanced over at the Corporal who was seated toward the bow of the ship. The other soldiers had dispersed and she was now sitting entirely alone. Kael felt her eyes suddenly meet his, her gray misty eyes boring right into his bright blue Irish orbs. He looked away for a moment only to see another corpse drifting by. Afraid that he would begin to feel sick again he decided that talking to a girl filled him with less dread than throwing up.

Kael sat down beside her and cast her several glances. Her shoulder length blonde hair showed signs of once being much shorter due to military standards. She turned toward him now offering a little wave as if to acknowledge his presence. Kael cleared his throat nervously trying to summon the words he would need to sway a beautiful woman of the world.

"You gonna say something or are you just gonna make eyes at me kid?" She asked with a joking grin, "Come on, speak dammit, I ain't gonna bite."

"It's just I," Kael started gasping for air, "I just think you're really, well, cute and I- I- I-"

"You what?" She asked thinking he'd lost the ability to speak - she soon realized that his gaze had been drawn to something ahead of the ship. She looked toward it now and felt her eyes go wide with horror, "Holy Butt-Fucking Jesus."

The ship slowed to a halt as they neared the impossible object ahead of them. Rising nearly nine feet above the waters of the river was a grotesque tower, a meshing of dead and rotting flesh that spanned the entire width river. The smell that filled the air sent Kael rushing for the side of the ship to empty his stomach. Several others gagged and all eyes were locked on the strange dam of decaying corpses. Speculation began immediately. Some believed the dam of the dead had been built there others thought that the corpses must have been washing down the river only to get stuck and as more washed down more were added. They seemed so interweaved that such an idea seemed utterly impossible yet so did the concept that human beings could have built so revolting a structure.

"All stop," Corporal Suggs relayed over the radio to the other boats behind them, "We've got an, obstruction."

"What the hell are we looking at Doc?" Malana asked trying to but unable to look away.

"I don't know," Doc replied, "But we're going to have to move it to get through."

"We better take this opportunity to do as much as we can," Corporal Suggs agreed, "We'll send some people ashore to look for fuel, maybe who ever built this dam have supplies we could use. Who wants to go ashore?"

"I'll go," Corporal Frost said grabbing her M16 and inserting a new magazine.

"Good," Suggs replied, "Corporal Frost here will lead the expedition, who else would like to go."

"I ain't getting off this boat," Private Wilkins said.

"I'll go along," Kael volunteered.

"Always putting yourself into danger for a chance at some tail," Brutus mumbled under his breath, "I'm going too."

"I'll go in case someone gets hurt," Doc offered.

"I guess if everyone else is going," Private Wilkins chimed in not wanting to be seen as less courageous than the civilians.

"Alright, you five go ashore, take this radio and whatever ammo you think you'll need," Corporal Suggs suggested, "Radio every half-hour, if you go for more than that without radio contact I will send people in after you."

"You will?" Brutus asked skeptically.

"We got left behind by our superiors Mr. Brutus," the Corporal replied, "We aren't keen to make that same mistake. Alright people, move, daylight's wasting."

Kael kept his eyes on the trees ahead of them as best he could. Despite it being nearly freezing the ground was muddy and wet and his feet sank into the muck with each step. Doctor Allan Wright walked beside him holding his M1A rifle close as they trekked into the woods. They'd been met on shore by three more soldiers who, along with Corporal Frost, had taken up their twelve and six o'clock positions. Corporal Frost was at the head of the group with her silenced M16. Thus far the forest had been quiet save their own sloshing over the muddy ground that was coated with soggy leaves.

The first twenty minutes passed in quiet agony with Kael struggling to hold his focus on the mission at hand as they cut through the forest in search of supplies. It didn't take long for his eyes to wander to Corporal Amber Frost. With his eyes firmly on her firm rear end he nearly tripped several times over tangled branches and roots that seemed determined to stop him. Brutus looked over as Kael nearly took another tumble and laughed quietly.

Suddenly Amber called the group of a halt with a gesture. She took a knee and lifted her rifle as if she saw something moving. Kael froze in his tracks listening to the winter wind howling through the trees. He thought for a moment that he heard something else behind the wind and the swaying branches. Figures began to bob and weave between the trees on all sides. The forest was suddenly alive with movement as they dropped from trees and rose from mud to attack.

Amber had to act fast, she took out the nearest infected as it rose from the mud and scurried toward her on its hands. Three more rose to take its place and she put them down using one bullet to the head for each. Her eyes grew wide when even more began to rise. The mud around them was alive with an entire horde of infected. She felt a hand grasp her ankle dragging her down into the dirt. With her free hand she took her combat knife from its sheath and cut away the fingers of the infected that was beneath her while in the same instant firing off several rounds at the oncoming horde. Two of the six charging zombies fell dead but the rest were right against her. She hit the first one away with the butt of her assault rifle and swept the legs out from another with a kick. The next one to rush her managed to land a heavy punch against her face but for his trouble he got a combat knife impaled into his temple piercing the brain. She lifted her assault rifle putting them all down.

Kael hit the nearest zombie away with his baseball bat. The next one he managed to knock aside as well but the third scurried beneath his swing and grabbed his legs pulling him down. As he fell he managed to secure his shotgun, he pumped it as the zombie lifted his arms above his head to strike. Down fell the mudman, his head gone and his blood pouring out into the mud beneath. Kael struggled to his feet with his gaze gravitating toward Corporal Frost. He turned back for only a moment to see Brutus cackling as he pumped out shell after shell with his Spas-15.

One of the soldiers was being overwhelmed by the horde. Kael felt himself torn for but a moment before heading toward the besieged soldier. A sniper round tore through two of the zombies that accosted the soldier. This bought Kael enough time to cross the distance to the soldier. Kael stopped in his tracks as a lumbering grotesque bulbous infected stumbled out from behind a tree trunk. He cracked the skull of a zombie that tried to halt him. It was too late though as the Boomer vomited covering the already assaulted soldier with a sickening solution of horde-attracting bile. Kael fired off at the nearest zombies as they poured even more aggressively out of the surrounding forest. He took down a dozen of them with only five shells but it did little good as the zombies that were attacking everyone else turned toward the soldier.

Kael reloaded but by the time he had six shells in his shotgun the soldier lie in a huddled mass on the mud covered ground surrounded by infected that bashed at him with their full might. Kael and the others all opened fire on the horde around the man but it was too late. As the last zombie fell away dead Kael reached what was left of the soldier. The sight of the barely recognizable mass of flesh made him feel cold inside. The soldier's face had been smashed beyond recognition.

It wasn't over yet, Kael realized as Doc pulled him away from the corpse and Brutus began opening fire on the still coming horde. They ran as fast as they could all the while hoping that their one casualty would be their only. They headed deeper into the forest with a few dozen zombies still behind them. Slowly, with the help of the two remaining soldiers and Doc's sniper rifle, they picked off their pursuers. As the adrenaline of battle cleared they came to a dirt road. Beside it laid a swamp and across the swamp they could make out what looked like buildings.

"We lost one," Amber radioed when the time came, "We lost Private Ian."

"Find anything useful?" Corporal Suggs asked.

"Not yet," she answered, "There's some buildings nearby we're going to check out."

"Copy that," Suggs acknowledged, "Good luck Corporal."

Corporal Frost sighed heavily and stepped off the road into the murky water ahead of them. Private Wilkins and one of the two other soldiers followed her but the other stood on the shoreline with Kael, Brutus and Doc.

"You're not actually goin in there are ya?" Private Johns asked with an incredulous tone.

"It's the quickest route to those buildings," the Corporal argued, "We cut across."

"It may be quickest lady but it ain't the safest," Brutus complained.

"Safe?" Amber scoffed, "You think there's such a thing as safe?"

"She has a point," Doc said shrugging and sinking into the knee deep water.

"Keep your guns above wa-," the Corporal started but she saw that they all already had their guns above the water line.

"Can I talk to you?" Kael asked stepping in stride with Corporal Frost.

"Sure thing kid," she replied, "Make it quick."

"Well, earlier I was going to say something to you," Kael started nervously, "I was just going to tell you that I think you're really-"

"Hold that thought," she whispered, "Did you hear something?"

"Something just touched my leg!" Private Wesley shouted, "I don't like this."

"There's something in the water," Private Johns screamed, "There's something in the-"

Private Johns vanished beneath the fetid waters of the swamp. His muffled screams resounded. A sudden wake of water rushed across the surface of the swamp and soon enough Brutus was being dragged down beneath the surface. Doc was nearby - he reached for the man and grabbed Brutus's hand. Wilkins opened fire shooting down into the water with his M16. Brutus was released and a puddle of blood formed near him. Something drifted to the surface still flailing. Brutus put his shotgun in its mouth and pulled the trigger before taking a closer look.

"It's a fucking zombie!" He said unable to believe it, "Damn things got flippers."

They had bigger things to worry about now, their gunfire and raised voices had brought forth the infected. Mudmen rose from the swamp around them rushing toward them as an infected horde scattered toward them from all around. Amber's eyes went wide with horror as she realized how wrong she'd been to lead them down here. The mud seemed to swallow up each step that she took toward the nearby shore and now she had to fend off the infected as she trudged through the swamp.

Kael lifted his shotgun and blew away two mudmen with one shell. He watched as another wake of water flew across the swamp toward Amber Frost. With determination in each stride he set out to reach her. As the strange amphibious infected pulled her down Kael stretched out his baseball bat. She grabbed hold. Kael felt unsure of what to do as he watched her struggle to stay above water. If he fired off one-handed with his shotgun he risked hitting her with the spread.

"Shoot the fucking thing!" She screamed pulling as hard as she could and bringing the zombie out of the water far enough for him to get a clean shot. Kael pumped three shells into it blasting away layers of decayed green flesh and tearing off a mutated limb that looked more like a fin than an arm. Down the infected went. Amber was on her feet and Kael was bashing away the infected that rushed in toward them. They were only a few feet from the other side now pushing on with sheer adrenaline and survival instinct driving them.

"It's got Private Wesley!" Brutus shouted as a Glider swooped from the trees and grabbed the Private by the collar and lifted the soldier, and the three zombies that'd been attacking him, into the air. Brutus fired off a shot nailing the creature in the wing causing it to fall into the water some distance away, "Get to your feet! Wesley!"

"Leave him!" Private Wilkins shouted shoving aside three infected with his rifle before switching it to full-auto and lifting it to shoot them. He cleared the area in front of Doc, Brutus and himself but Brutus and Doc, he now realized, had already gone toward Private Wesley. Private Wilkins' eyes went wide as something rose from the swamp. It was female or at least it seemed to be. The grotesque naked creature had a neck that was three feet long and sickening teeth that oozed green slime from its grotesque maw. It took a deep breath and Wilkins realized that he'd heard of this kind of zombie before. It was too late - the Spitter coated him in noxious acid. Wilkins dropped into the water screaming and trying his best to put out the fires that burned across his skin. It was no use though.

"Wilkins!" Doc shouted but as the man's body bobbed to the surface they saw that he was dead. Brutus helped Wesley to his feet and they rushed ashore where Amber and Kael were waiting and holding off the horde.

"Ammunition is running low!" Amber shouted, "Move your asses! Let's go!"

Kael swatted away a mudman with his bat and grabbed Doc's hand helping the man out of the swamp. They rushed for the buildings now as fast as they could with the forest still alive with the screeching of the horde. At last they reached the buildings. The first few they found were decrepit sheds that wouldn't have helped stave off any attack let alone one of the zombie variety. Finally with the horde on their heels they found a sturdy house. They rushed inside and braced the door as the infected slammed into it. Brutus set the injured Private down and pushed a nearby broken refrigerator in front of the door allowing the others to step away. The Corporal rushed to the nearest window and opened it and began shooting her silenced M16 making quick work of the zombies that had managed to follow them.

"Is that the last of them?" Brutus asked as Amber loaded her last magazine into her M16.

"For now," she replied gulping nervously.

"I saw an old boat out there," Brutus mentioned, "We could siphon whatever fuel is in it."

"Won't be enough," Amber explained.

"There were gas tanks in the back of the truck that the boat is hitched to," Kael said with a smirk, "We just need to see if that truck will run."

"Sounds like a plan," Amber replied slapping Kael on the back and giving him a grin before turning toward Private Wesley and Doc, "How is he?"

"Some heavy bruising," Doc replied, "But nothing is broken. He'll be fine but I'm not sure how much use he'll be in a fight. I don't think we should try to leave her without getting help if we can, truck or not."

Malana sat beside William Milano watching the kid closely. She wasn't sure what to make of the young man's lack of emotional reaction to the death of his Mother. She knew that grieving was important yet he seemed entirely distant and emotionally numb. Even now he was humming gently and toying with Private Wilhelm's dog-tags. The sight of the metallic tags brought a lump in Malana's throat. She patted the kid on the head and moved toward the bow of the ship to check what progress had been made on moving the dam of corpses.

Seventeen soldiers were in the water moving the dead bodies. Those that could wore gasmasks out of fear that the corpses were those of the infected and that they were not immune. Malana stepped toward Corporal Suggs. The Corporal nodded in acknowledgement of her.

"Any word yet?" Malana asked.

"They were scheduled to make contact four minutes ago," Suggs replied, "Give them time."

"I worry," Malana admitted, "I'm usually so optimistic but without them around I feel like a mess."

"You've been together for a while?"

"Almost two weeks," Mal said trying to count the days, "I think."

"Tomorrow is December First," Corporal Suggs nodded.

"Corporal Suggs this is Corporal Frost," the radio that Suggs held in his hand reported, "Come in."

"Go Frost."

"We've found some fuel but we've lost Wilkins and Johns. Wesley is alive but hurt," she replied, "Requesting you send someone to help us sir."

"Corporal!" Malana shouted grabbing her M4 and telling William to get below decks.

"Corporal?" Amber Frost's voice echoed over the radio, "Corporal Suggs are you there?"

The deafening growl of the Tank carried through the radio to where Amber Frost and her fellow survivors were standing - silence followed.


	11. Chapter 11: Downstream

Chapter Eleven: Downstream

Kael stood in the house weighing the pros and cons of accepting the mission at hand. On the one hand escape was the only chance they had to reconvene with the others and get out of the swamp. He was the only one who knew how to hotwire a vehicle though Kael found that fact exceedingly hard to believe. Brutus vehemently denied possessing the ability and the injured soldier was too hurt to do it. So it had fallen to him, just a month and a half shy of seventeen, to complete the daunting task. One peak from behind the safe house door showed just how daunting it was as at least a dozen or more infected were within sight. Kael knew for every one visible there were likely two dozen more lurking nearby. He'd been out there only an hour earlier, he knew the dangers and how quickly their squad had been taken down to five.

Kael turned to Corporal Amber Frost who was still trying and failing to make radio contact with the others. The Corporal looked up from what she was doing and turned to the clearly distressed young man. He was so young and looked so frail standing there. She knew by the way he'd been looking at her that he was infatuated with her. She couldn't blame him in the slightest. She set aside her military training for a moment deciding to encourage the young man not with authoritarian barks or rousing speeches but utilizing something base, her feminine wiles. She strode up to him confidently grabbed him by the collar and pulled him into a passionate kiss. She severed the contact a few moments later and gave him a grin.

"Now get the fuck out there and get that truck running," she said patting him on the ass as he went out the door.

Kael, his head spinning and adrenaline pumping, stepped out onto the muddy ground. He pumped his shotgun shooting off the arm of the first infected who tried to impede him. The truck was just twenty yards away as he sprinted forward knocking aside a mudman who rose up from the muck and soon reaching the pick-up. He grabbed at the handle cursing his luck, it was locked. He beat the window with his shotgun but three hits with the butt barely buckled the glass. He pumped the gun becoming acutely aware of the infected just behind him. He felt one strike a heavy punch against his lower back. He unlocked the door dodging an infected claw that harmlessly hit the truck door and left four paint-less streaks.

Kael had the door open now as the zombie claws surrounded him punching and tearing at his jacket. He was in the truck now blasting away with his shotgun to clear their reaching hands from the driver-side window. A few moments later the truck engine roared to life as did the rest of the swamp. The shrieking of a thousand zombies drowned out the hum of the pick-ups engine. The horde was on the way.

Malana stared into the beady eyes of the beast as it bore down on her. William Milano stood sheltered in her shadow as she lifted her M4 and flipped it to full auto pumping out round after round at the Tank. It growled in protest as the bullets hit home burrowing into its disgustingly muscled flesh. The Tank took out its rage on a nearby soldier swatting him aside, he flew off the boat clearing the rest of the narrow river and landing on shore with a painful sounding thud.

Malana was back peddling as she fired and trying to figure out if there was any way that they could stop the creature. To make matters worse the Tank had dislodged the dam of corpses and the rush of water that now came at them was carrying the boat downstream. They were headed backwards and the waters around them were raging. There was nowhere to run and the Tank's weight was making the boat sway back and forth throwing Malana's aim off considerably. As the last bullet in her magazine escaped she saw Corporal Suggs rushing toward her.

"Incendiary!" he shouted tossing her another magazine.

She promptly loaded the new mag into her M4. The Tank was literally ten feet away now as his flesh burst into flames from being hit on both sides by incendiary rounds. The Tank screamed in outrage and began to stumble. He was clearly wearing out and his arms flailed to and fro. Suddenly the Tank dove to the side escaping into the rushing waters as if seeking relief from the fire. He slowly drifted downstream flailing with his arms nearly reached Malana and Will where they stood.

"Get behind me," Malana said watching the Tank's arms try to get a grip on the side of the boat so that he could pull himself up. William didn't comply though. Malana watched as the kid walked forward. She ran up and tried to stop him as he rushed up to the Tank's hands and began bashing them with a crowbar.

"Fuck you!" He shouted tearing into the Tank's knuckles, "This is for my Mother! Fuck you!"

The Tank's head and upper body were rising out of the water but William kept hitting landing several blows to the Tank's face before Malana pulled him away. He was crying as she moved him to behind her and began opening fire. The Tank was too wet to be ignited by the fire bullets so Malana focused on his stubby legs and already wounded knuckles. Down the Tank toppled, its weight too much to be held up by broken legs especially ones so small. It reached its mangled hands forward toward them grabbing hold of Malana's hair. William stepped out and bashed its knuckles once more until it let go. Now freed Malana took aim and emptied the remainder of her magazine into its head. With one final roar of defiance the Tank ripped a chunk from the deck and threw it. The debris flew threw the air missing Malana and William by a mile and flying toward the boat behind them where it crashed against the splashed harmlessly into the water. The Tank, out of energy and with bullets tearing apart its brain, died sprawled across the deck of the boat.

There was little time to celebrate, the boat was in bad shape and the entire convoy of boats had washed downstream a considerable distance despite being anchored. To make matters worse the Tank had attracted more than a few ordinary infected. Most of them were still milling about the shoreline and some had even drowned themselves but amongst the commons there were bound to be special infected. Malana and the remaining soldiers gathered around the Tank's body struggling to push it toward the water. The massive behemoth plummeted to the bottom of the river after several minutes of slow but deliberate effort.

Brutus burst from the safehouse wielding an axe he'd found inside. He swung it across his body swiping aside six zombies that had turned to face him. Their intestines and organs fled their bodies through the massive gash the axe had created but Brutus was on the next group. He had to get them away from the pick-up. He began screaming and darting back and forth distracting as many members of the horde as he could before dashing away back toward the safehouse where the others waited. He ran backwards allowing him to cut away the closest infected. By the time he reached the door the two dozen zombies who'd been following him had dwindled to just half a dozen, half a dozen cut down by Corporal Frost's silenced M16.

The truck wasn't going to remain clear for long, infected seemed to swarm in from every direction now. Brutus hurried the others on as he climbed into the bed of the pick-up swatting with his long reach at any infected stupid enough to get in close to the truck. He reached down to grab the hand of the wounded Private Wesley and helped the man into the back of the truck along with the Doc. Brutus shoved aside the gasoline to make room for the two men and called out to Kael to get moving as more and more infected began surrounding the truck. Amber Frost beat aside three infected with the butt of her gun taking several punches from others as she climbed into the cabin beside Kael.

Kael threw the truck in drive and hit the gas. The truck was slow to get moving, the tires struggled against the muddy ground. Soon enough though they were moving leaving a large group of infected chasing after them. Brutus felt it safe enough to sit down as they raced across the mud towards the river forgoing the road in hopes of rendezvousing with the boats. The horde swarmed from everywhere made seemingly more ravenous by the sound of the engine.

"Corporal Suggs this is Corporal Frost," Amber tried on the radio, silence followed, "Corporal Suggs, goddamn it, come in this is Frost."

"This is Suggs," a voice finally answered after what seemed like an eternity of silence, "We're under attack here... We dealt with the tank."

"How many are dead?" Amber asked with sudden vulnerability to her normally tough tone.

"At least a dozen," Suggs replied, "We're trying to get back upstream to where we let you out. Be there in twenty minutes."

"Roger," Frost replied.

Kael could see that she was stifling her emotions. She'd lost so much, he knew, they all had. In many ways they had all buried what they lost just to press on in hope of one day finding safety. They were moving quickly now although at times he had to back up and find another path due to the trees becoming too densely packed. He hoped they could get back to where they disembarked although he had to admit he couldn't pinpoint that exact location with any accuracy. Still they had to reach the river and he knew in which direction that was.

Suddenly the tires wouldn't move. Kael floored it and mud kicked up in all directions splattering the windows and any nearby infected. They'd left much of the horde behind but there were still a few infected swarming near the truck and now it seemed they were stuck the sound of the squealing tires only attracting more attention. Kael looked to Frost and offered her an innocent helpless shrug before opening the window to yell back.

"We're stuck!"

"No shit Sherlock!" Brutus responded hopping down and bashing aside an infected with his axe, "Doc, you wanna give me a hand?"

They had to move quickly as the infected came on. Brutus and Doc Wright pushed against the tailgate attempting to lift the truck out of the mud. It was no use and the infected were surrounding them. Mudmen began to rise from the mud around them scurrying in to punch against them. Brutus spun on them leaving Doc to push all alone as he fended off the infected horde. He held his own against the zombies who were already there cutting away limbs and bashing through skull with his axe as he beat them back away from Doc. He found that they just kept coming and there was no way he could push the truck and beat them back at the same time. He brought his Spas-15 down from his shoulder but realized that the excess noise would only bring more attention.

Reluctantly Kael stepped from the cab holding his baseball bat. Brutus had already opened fire knocking aside two infected with the spread of his shotgun cutting into their mud covered green skin. Kael came in beside him batting aside those infected who got close enough to hit him. Brutus nodded his thanks to the kid and turned back to the truck and began pushing it. Kael found he was falling within himself. Each infected that rose up against him was struck by the aluminum of his bat. Skulls cracked, bones shattered and sometimes entire limbs weakened by the infection broke away completely. Blood mixed with mud blended with Kael's sweat as he swatted the horde away pouring all the emotional intensity he possessed into keeping them safe.

Kael turned triumphantly to see that the truck was moving again. He reached up for Brutus' hand as the big man stepped into the bed of the truck. His mud-covered bloody hand gripped Brutus's but for some reason he wasn't rising up, he was moving away. Kael looked down at his ankle watching as the tongue of a Smoker coiled around his leg and tore him away. Brutus shouted after him jumping down and batting aside a common zombie in his rush to get to Kael. It all seemed so sudden as Kael skipped along the muddy surface before being hoisted into the air. From his treetop perch the Smoker sputtered and coughed as his tongue constricted Kael even further threatening the young man's ability to breathe. Kael could see Brutus and the others rushing toward him, he could hear their desperate cries but soon he began to slip from consciousness as the crushing of the Smoker's tongue cut the oxygen off from him.

Malana knew they were low on ammunition but she had to act. She opened fire on the Hunter as it leapt in low attempting to clip one of the soldiers from the deck of the boat behind them. She was dead-on in her aim as six or seven rounds hit the Hunter. Somehow it kept going though and it barreled right into the soldier it was aiming for. She heard it shriek in pain before it could have done any real damage though.

They'd lost at least a dozen in the Tank attack, most of those had been in the water clearing corpses before the assault. Now the horde crowded the shore and special infected had sporadically launched attacks. Of particular concern were Spitters whose acid might have proved a problem for the hulls of each boat. Smokers had pulled several soldiers to the side of the river but each had been rescued - so far so good. They were nearing their destination now hoping to find the others waiting for them.

Malana turned her attention to William Milano now. She'd told him to remain below decks but the young man, barely ten, had refused. He was sitting in front of her even then humming a tune quietly and kicking his feet out in front of him to the rhythm. Either he was the most mature young man she'd ever met or he was a ticking time-bomb of negative emotions. Perhaps they all were though, with all they'd been through in the month since the Infection started.

"You feeling okay?" Malana asked sitting beside him.

"I'm not sick if that's what you mean," William responded as though hurt by the question.

"Good," Malana said breathing a relieved sigh as the boat pulled up to the place where the corpse wall had been, "You were brave against that Tank."

"I can't stand these things."

"Brave but stupid," Malana finished, "No one wants to see you get hurt, you're just a kid."

"Tell that to the zombies," Will replied and Malana couldn't deny the truth in that statement.

"He okay?" a soldier asked walking by and Malana nodded.

"Everyone is so concerned about me," William complained, "Pay attention to yourselves. You can't protect me if you're dead."

"They're not here," Kelly remarked.

"Give them some time," Corporal Suggs said, "I've known Corporal Frost for a long time, failure isn't an option for her and if your other friends are as reliable and tough as she is..."

Kael felt it all growing dark, he heard something loud then, like a gunshot. Then he was falling, falling through the branches and impacting into the mud. He felt the oxygen crowding back into his extremities and illuminating his eyes once more. The world around him slowly became clear. A figure stood nearby using two baseball bats to beat back a series of zombies. Kael assumed it was one of his friends despite the unfamiliar fighting style. He pushed himself up to his arms as his eyes gained focus. This wasn't one of his friends, he now realized, but someone else. A rather short man only about five foot ten with a face covered in stubble and mud splotches who was beating aside the infected and laughing maniacally all the while.

"Name's Keith," the man said in a southern accent helping Kael to his feet and handing him a baseball bat, "I believe this is yours."

"Where are my friends?" Kael asked bashing in a zombie skull but nearly falling over out of dizziness as he did.

"Careful," Keith said, "Your friends got swarmed, they're back at the truck. I said I'd get you back to them."

As if on cue Kael heard the sound of Brutus's shotgun firing. He couldn't quite see the truck from where he was out but he went off in the direction of the nearby gunfire. Keith tried to stay ahead of him blasting aside the Mudmen with his wooden bat as they scampered toward them. The crack of the bat against zombie skull was like music to Kael's ears and soon the two were bashing heads back to back and side by side. The forest had no shortage of zombies to offer them as targets. There were many, almost too many and the sound of the Smoker still in the trees moved them forward quickly toward the truck.

Soon the mud covered white truck became visible and Kael's eyes went wide when he saw the horde of infected that surrounded it. Amber Frost had apparently run out of ammo as she was now using Brutus's axe to cut apart the infected. Kael watched a Hunter dive in from a nearby tree only to have that axe buried in its face. Kael cheered reflexively but found the outcry attracted the attention of the other zombies. Thinking to preserve some semblance of surprise Kael gave a warcry and rushed in.

Despite still being dizzy from his ordeal at the hands, or tongue, of the Smoker, he dashed in and began sweeping the legs of zombies finishing them with a few bashes of his bat before turning to the others. Punches came in from all around, some landed heavy on his already weakened flesh but he just kept going under the power of pure adrenaline. His initial energy was wearing thin and just as he began to slow Keith came in battering zombie kneecaps.

"Let's get the hell out of here!" Brutus shouted and Amber nodded climbing into the cab, "You too kid."

"Shotgun!" Kael yelled nodding at his big friend and for once Brutus seemed very glad to see him.

"You coming?" Brutus asked offering a hand-up to Keith. Keith lifted his bat and climbed into the bed of the truck and off they went with an army of infected just behind them.

Keith pulled out his pistol then and began firing with surprising accuracy given their speed. Finally when he was satisfied he sat down to avoid being hit by the branches of nearby trees.

"Who the hell are you?" Brutus asked the man.

"Name's Keith."

"Yeah, you said that before," Brutus said shaking his head, "But I mean what are you doing out here?"

"Surviving," Keith replied taking out a cigarette and lighting it.

"Yeah but how?" Brutus asked, "I mean all by yourself? With just a bat and a pistol?"

"Had myself a shotgun," Keith said, "Lost it when them muddy bastards started showing up. I never thought the world would go to shit like this, I mean my one buddy Ellis was always telling me about these books he'd read, but I thought he was bullshitting me."

"I don't think books predicted this," Brutus smirked, "These ain't movie zombies."

"They're not technically zombies at all," Doc said, "They're just people, sick people... the virus changes them."

"I don't care what anybody says," Keith said, "These are zombies. What other sickness gives you green flaky skin over 95% of your entire body?"

"It certainly seems to mimic death and decay," Doc agreed, "Just one of the symptoms... these people are still alive."

"And we kill them," Private Wesley said, "We're shooting unarmed fucking civilians who are sick and need our help?"

"Unarmed perhaps," Keith said, "But did you see the tongue on that one?"

They grew quiet after that. None of them liked to think of what they were doing as murder, after all they did it in self-defense of themselves and others. Was it manslaughter than? Was it truly as bad as all that? For the most part they'd managed to keep clear consciences. They needed to do what they did to survive. It was the only way. Still the infected WERE just ill. They were not the undead zombies featured in fiction.

Soon the shore was in sight and just a few hundred feet away the boats were parked. The infected numbers had dwindled. Many had leapt into the water only to find their ability to swim less than proficient. Others had been picked off by soldiers on the boats or had merely wandered away when they realized they had no chance of reaching their targets. It seemed they weren't as mindless as had once been thought.

Brutus was the first down waving at Malana as he punched aside the first infected with his bare fists almost as if trying to impress her. Keith was next leaping into the fray when Brutus found himself trying to fist fight six zombies all on his own. Doc helped Private Wesley down. The Private had been very lucky not to get infected both from the zombie virus and the myriad of other germs his wounds had come in contact with. Soon all six of them were standing on the boat with Malana.

"What happened here?" Brutus asked regarding the damage to the boat.

"Like you didn't hear the Tank through the radio," Corporal Frost scolded.

"Just asking," Brutus said before turning to Mal, "Just glad to see you in one piece Mal."

"All that for a few tanks of fuel," Corporal Suggs remarked to Corporal Frost, "We'll only get a few extra miles from it."

"Sometimes I wish I was one of the ones who died," Frost replied, "Imagine being dead, silent and peaceful, no need to fear this nightmare. No need to shoot your own when they turn infected or fear you'll become one of them."

"I could do it."

"No," Frost responded, "There's still hope. If we survive we could still rebuild... we can't allow the mindless beasts to inherit the Earth."

Frost hugged Corporal Suggs briefly turning to make sure no one saw the embrace as Suggs moved back toward the helm. They would press as far upstream as they could until they ran out of fuel. It was all they could do. Amber's misty gray eyes scanned the damage on the boat and came to rest on Kael. A smile crept onto her lips uncontrollably and she found her feet moving toward him.

"You'd make quite the soldier," she said patting him on the back, "When I saw that Smoker pull you I thought you were a goner for sure."

"Thanks," Kael said sarcastically.

"I mean it kid," she said and suddenly she realized that wasn't the best term to use for him, "I mean, Kael."

"Look I know I'm really young and everything and a girl as pretty as you can have anyone she wants but maybe we could-"

Kael found himself lip-locked with Amber Frost melting into a puddle of bliss. He thought for a moment that the Smoker had killed him and that he was currently in heaven. Amber pulled away then leaving him wide-eyed and speechless. She couldn't help but smile at the expression he wore. She turned to walk away but he caught her by the sleeve and turned her around. Her face was caked with dirt and her clothes were covered in blood, sweat and mud. He kissed her all the same.

"Feel like I'm robbing the cradle," Amber said sheepishly blushing under all that dirt as all eyes on the boat looked on, "I tell you what Kael, you want to come below decks with me?"

"What did you have in mind?" He asked with a grin.

"I thought maybe I'd get cleaned up, I feel mighty dirty," she said without needing to accentuate the obvious double-meaning, "Care to join me?"

Brutus shook his head and laughed a little as he watched Kael and Amber stroll below deck hand in hand. The big man found it a bit inspiring to see life go on in such a way. Sure it was primal, the desire to fuck, but he had to admit there was nothing more essential to life in all the world. Survival, after all, was just a test to see if you could pass on your genes. Plus Brutus had seen the kid try and fail before.

"No more blue balls for the boy," Brutus mumbled to Malana, "Looks like he's finally catching a break."

"Wish we all could catch a break," Malana replied, "A real one I mean."

As if fate itself was responding to her call she turned her eyes upstream to see a formation of helicopters sweeping across the sky. For a moment Malana felt as if her optimism was finally paying off until she saw one of the cargo copters open the crate it carried beneath it and let the corpses come falling out.


End file.
